On the Wings of Redemption
by Aina Song
Summary: See inside for teaser. Guest starring a character from the "Twilight" book series.
1. Master Harry

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter One - Master Harry**

_A marble pillar was knocked to the once immaculate marble floor, sending a very expensive vase crashing down with it. He scrambled, hurriedly straightening to his feet, the voices of his mother and father commanding him to run. An unfamiliar jinx was uttered, and he cried out in pain as a band of iron locked itself around his wrist, but he kept running. His feet skidded as he rounded a corner and raced up the staircase toward the second floor, hearing his pursuers shout and double back when they realized he had not simply fled through the front door._

_Seconds, he had only seconds to his advantage, and he knew they would not be his for long. He tore down the second-floor corridor, desperate to reach his room, for the very first time cursing that it was at the far end of the manor. He had only a small stretch to go, when he heard their voices shouting behind him. Never pausing to question himself, he threw himself to the floor as he had once seen done in a Muggle photograph of some sport with runners and chasers, using the force of his momentum to slide along the last stretch of floor and kick open his door. Quickly rolling to his hands and knees, he found himself scrambling to his feet once more. His wrist throbbed painfully under the band of iron but he ignored it, his racing mind suddenly a blank as he looked about his room._

_There! His wand and broomstick, conveniently placed in the same corner as his window. Yet he had not taken two steps, before his ears rang with the echo of a most-dreaded curse, and a flash of green filled his eyes even as he arched his back with a choked cry. All feeling left him save for one, that searing burn around his jinxed wrist, which inexplicably became as fire even as the rest of his world blurred and faded from reality._

_For a split second, he worried that the nearest corner of his desk was rushing up to meet him, but his world swiftly grew dark before he'd even the chance to fall._

_He did not hear his window as it was shattered, did not feel the cool shadow that played across his face and down along the length of his body, as though touched by the earliest autumn breeze. Nor did he see the terror which filled his pursuers' faces, mere seconds before the life fled from their eyes forever…_

~o~

Harry Potter was not like most young men. Summer was his least favorite time of the year, though it had certainly become more pleasant now that he was no longer required to return to his family. He couldn't care less that his birthday was tomorrow, as he had very rarely been permitted to acknowledge it, let alone celebrate it. He had many admirers but would trade anything to be rid of them forever, which only made him appreciate his ragtag handful of true friends all the more.

He knew the price of loyalty, the scars of betrayal, and the definition of sacrifice. He had witnessed the deaths of so very many. A deep-rooted seed of guilt twisted in his gut that the majority of those deaths had been due to the widely popular effort to defend him and what it had been believed he stood for. Most would argue that he had made it up to them in the end, but his heart remained heavy with the loss.

And, at nearly eighteen years old, he was one of only a few dozen preparing to repeat his seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Kreacher," he wondered distractedly, and then called more firmly, "Kreacher!"

There was a loud and resounding _crack_ as the house elf appeared. "Yes, Master Harry," bowed Kreacher, a large golden locket swinging from his neck and occasionally thumping against the dusty white pillowcase that had been torn in some areas to allow for wearing. The house elf had a snout for a nose, giant bat's ears, and enormous pale eyes that were no longer bloodshot or full of hatred for his newest employer.

Harry noticed a blob of black paint atop the house elf's head, and he could not help an absent grin. He and Kreacher had been spending the summer season renovating the Black family home, the house his godfather had left him two years before in his will. The house, and its resident elf, were gifts Harry had never wanted yet reluctantly accepted, for they were some of the very few things left that reminded of the adventurous Sirius Black.

"Have you seen my wand?" Harry asked of Kreacher. "I thought I'd just set it down, but…"

"You did, Master Harry," the house elf nodded as he straightened. "In the spare room next to this one. Master set it down to help Kreacher move a bureau against the wall."

"Oh, right." He left but quickly returned, wand in hand. He flicked his wrist thrice, and the three broken windows of the room instantly repaired themselves at his silent command. "There," he proclaimed, tucking his wand into his holster hidden within his sleeve, a lighter modification of the more popular sheaths his kind was fond of wearing. Clapping the dust from his hands, he turned to his house elf. "I say we deserve a break. Haven't we been at this since morning?"

"Yes, sir," Kreacher agreed with another great bobbing of his head.

Harry gave in to a brief chuckle. He and this particular house elf had once shared a very rocky beginning, laced with a mutual loathing. But last year, they had finally stumbled onto some common ground - thanks almost entirely to Harry's desperation and to Kreacher's secret but palpable need for recognition. And so, after defeating the Dark Lord had left and ancient and well-known castle in need of much repair, thereby cancelling the rest of that school year, Harry had found no reason not to return here, to number twelve Grimmauld Place.

Harry had idled for several weeks, unable to decide what his next move should be, now that his life was no longer under constant threat. He ate Kreacher's cooking and even accepted the elf's offers of assistance whenever Harry had found something to tinker with. Slowly, they recaptured that frail companionship of master and elf that had months before begun to forge itself between them. Harry began asking Kreacher's help more willingly, and he remembered to thank the house elf even if something he had requested could not be done. Now Kreacher often reminded Harry of another house elf, one he had been quite fond of and still missed terribly. And, to Kreacher, Harry was almost as revered a master as had been his beloved Master Regulus, the younger brother of Sirius Black.

And then had come the letter:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of _WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall

_(Order of Merlin, Second Class)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

Due to the untimely, but no less meaningful, interruption of the previous school year, it has been decided that every student be given the opportunity to make up for the studies they have not yet completed. This is mandatory for every student but last term's seventh years.

As they are already of Wizarding age and may therefore cast themselves off into the world if they so wish, this offer for last term's seventh years remains only thus: An offer. They may move on, or they may join the seventh years of the new semester to complete their remaining studies.

For those students wishing to take advantage of this opportunity, but perhaps have misplaced their necessary books and/or supplies, please refer to the enclosed list.

As always, term begins September 1st. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock. For returning seventh years, we await your confirmation by owl, no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Pomona Sprout

_Deputy Headmistress_

The letter had meant many things for Harry at once, but most of all it stirred within him a sense of purpose again. Something he could do, something to look forward to. Following his new light mood, Harry had suggested to Kreacher that perhaps it was time to make House Black look more like the home it ought to be. The house elf had readily agreed, and so together they had set to work.

Manual labor seemed to work wonders for Harry. With every chore, the weight of loss seemed to slowly lift away from his shoulders. It had been an entire month since he had received the letter, the house's renovation had nearly been completed… His nights were still haunted by the endless sorrow that twisted within his heart, but at times Harry could _almost_ believe that the horrors of his past had been lived by somebody else.

Harry turned now to Kreacher, his only constant companion since the defeat of the Dark Lord - due entirely to his explicit wish to his friends that he be allowed some time to clear his head and set things straight with himself. Kreacher had had to overcome some personal hurdles, himself, at first. Like so many house elves, the urge to punish himself for any mistakes had been paramount. It was only with steady diligence (and much trial and error) that Kreacher had slowly begun to develop a resistance against those urges. And such efforts often deserved acknowledgement.

"I have an idea," Harry announced, suddenly inspired. "Let's get out of here."

The house elf looked up with large, curious eyes. "Out, sir?"

"Well," he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't see how two or three hours would set us back too much. I'm sure we'll still get done in no time. I just think we might enjoy a bit of fresh air, and I've got my school preparations to make anyway, so…"

It seemed to take a moment for the house elf to decipher what he was hinting at. But then those impossibly large eyes grew even rounder with hopeful disbelief. "Master Harry… is asking Kreacher to join him… o-on his trip to Diagon Alley?"

Harry dropped his hand with an easy smile, wondering yet again if Dobby had _not_ been any relation to this elf. Kreacher certainly seemed to be revealing more and more Dobby-like qualities of late. "If you don't want to, you know I won't force you. This isn't an order; it's an invitation. What do you say?"

Kreacher sputtered for a second, but then exploded forth. "If Master Harry wishes it of Kreacher, of course he will accept! He will be on his very best behavior, Kreacher swears it!"

"There's a load off my mind," Harry kidded. "Now, come on. I think I'll need a damn good shower to get this grime off me before we go - and much as I'm enjoying that spot of paint on your head, you could probably do without."

The house elf let out a surprised yelp, smacking both hands to his head before disappearing with another loud _crack_. Harry laughed, stepping into the hall and strolling toward the stairs at a more sedate pace. Barely a shadow of the sorrow that still haunted him could break through the barrier of his current bright mood.

Today was a good day.

~o~

_Slowly, the numbness drained from his arms and limbs before finally fleeing his torso. It lingered some in his head, particularly above his right ear, and he fleetingly wondered what he would find in the afterlife if he opened his eyes._

_Yet he knew no fear. Instead, he felt a wave of calm wash over him, and he parted his lips to breathe it in. Strange, that his lungs expanded with that familiar sense of relief, as though the very air was still vital. Numbly curious, he held his breath, testing - and knew a brief moment of mild surprise when his lungs demanded the repetition of release and filling relief. And then the burning sensation around his wrist reintroduced itself, finally alarming him enough to open his eyes at last._

_He stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling - old and wooden, support beams visible. The surface upon which he lay was soft and giving, and though it was not very comfortable he knew it to be a bed… or, at the very least, a mattress covered with sheets. His head rested atop a single pillow, the area above his right ear now beginning to tingle with the merest whisper of pain._

_But… pain? Wasn't he dead? Lying as still as he was, he could not find his heartbeat, belatedly realizing it had not made itself known since he'd woke. He must be dead, mustn't he? But then, why did his lungs still thrive with every breath? Why did his skull hum as though he had been struck; why did his wrist feel as though it had been roped with fire?_

_Was he, then… alive?_

_Another breath of calm washed over him, cool and inviting, and a very cold touch engulfed his left wrist, chasing back the fire. Carefully tilting his head down, he found two slim hands, pale as alabaster, gently cupping the whole of his wrist, which seemed to have been wrapped in bandages. Letting his gaze follow those hands up their arms toward their owner, he inevitably found himself staring into eyes of piercing golden ochre._

~o~

Harry smiled down at the house elf hobbling excitingly along at his side. It was painfully obvious that Kreacher had never been asked to accompany any of his previous masters to Diagon Alley as anything more than their servant. Kreacher's large pale eyes absorbed everything within sight, with all the eagerness of a child on a quest to decide his favorite sweet.

They had stopped by several shops. And, despite that Kreacher looked as though he might have been more than content just to wait on the street and observe through the windows, Harry surprised the house elf into delighted tears by inviting Kreacher to join him inside every single one. The aged house elf had kept to his oath about remaining on his best behavior, however, staring most interestedly at the shops' shelves but never once touching a single item without permission.

Harry had not wanted to be encumbered with too many parcels, and so he had taken advantage of a special service that would deliver to any destination he so desired. The few books and supplies he ordered he had sent directly to Hogwarts, to await him in his dorm room. But there were several tools and various items he had sent to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, to aid in the finishing reparations of House Black.

Kreacher had burst into tears and delighted wails when Harry bought the house elf a polishing kit for the locket he was never without. And now Kreacher was hugging the parcel to his chest like some fragile thing as he followed his young master into the Owl Post.

Harry had set this errand to the bottom of his list. Though he knew it was of the utmost importance to send a response to Hogwarts by tomorrow, some part of him was dreading it. Quickly scrawling his wishes to indeed become a returning seventh year, Harry rolled the parchment and tied it with twine. Now for the difficult part. He was to choose an owl to deliver his letter. And he had avoided needing an owl for anything since the death of his beloved snowy owl, Hedwig.

Harry's heart twinged as he turned to the wall of perches, upon every one of which waited a postal owl of different classes and speeds. He needed one of the swiftest, to ensure that his letter would be delivered by morning. Sighing heavily, he paced before the wall, scanning the plaques beneath the owls' perches for one that would meet his requirements. But then he paused before one near the corner, eyebrow quirking in curiosity. The plaque read, _Falco Sparverius_ - it was a sparrow hawk.

_Not_ an owl…

Harry studied the bird. Perhaps half the size of the average hawk, with short broad wings and a long tail. Its coloring was most unusual; golden brown feathers, tipped with black at the crown of his head and on the ends of its wings and tail. Strong beak and talons, also black. Small eyes the warm color of liquid amber whispering of a wisdom that seemed most unusual for a bird of its breed.

"I don't recommend that one," said a Post witch, coming over. "It is indeed several marks swifter than our fastest owl, but the fact is that the bird is far too proud. Snapped at every customer that's tried to get it to deliver for them. We're scheduling it for discharge by the end of the week."

"Discharge?" Harry repeated.

The witch sighed, shaking her head. "Euthanasia."

Sucking in a quick intake of breath, Harry turned again to the sparrow hawk. The bird twitched its head to the side, steadily returning his gaze with one of its gleaming amber eyes. Harry tried to think ahead to one week from now, and his heart murmured uncertainly at the mental picture of a perch without its golden-feathered owner. He carefully reached a hand toward the bird-

"I wouldn't," warned the Post witch.

-And the sparrow hawk crooned and nipped rather gently at his fingertips. Harry could not help a small smile. "I think he'll do just fine. Want to prove yourself to them, little merlin?"**(1)**

The bird sidled along its perch from one end to the other, and then stretched out its leg to receive Harry's letter. Ignoring the Post witch's astounded stammering, Harry tied his roll of parchment to the sparrow hawk's leg, and he watched as the bird soared in circles above his head and then flew off to make the delivery.

"I just don't understand it," the witch muttered after a long minute.

Chuckling under his breath, Harry paid her the five Knuts required and turned to his house elf, who had stood by in curious silence. "Come on, Kreacher. Let's go home."

"Yes, Master Harry."

1) "Little merlin" - Though Merlin is the name of a most popular Arthurian legend, it is also the name of a certain type of kestrel. Close cousins with the sparrow hawk.


	2. See You

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Two - See You**

Harry received many surprises the next morning. He had showered and dressed, tucking his wand away as he came down for breakfast. But as he entered the kitchen his dark green eyes widened as he saw a room he barely recognized.

Because the kitchen was in use every day, it had been among the first rooms to be renovated. There were now a new electric stove, a new refrigerator, and new cabinets. Harry himself had _Scourgified_ the plumbing in the sink, reconstructed its surrounding counters, and repaired the pantry cupboard.

That morning, however, the walls had been draped with banners that interchanged between the scarlet and gold colors of Gryffindor House, and the solid black of his godfather's namesake. The dining table standing in the center of the floor had been covered with a fresh white cloth, and several inches above the table itself tiny sparks of varying colors were bursting in celebration.

At the head of the table, Kreacher stood waiting beside Harry's chair. A large scrap of black cloth had been slung across the front of his pillowcase like a makeshift sash, and the locket he always wore gleamed especially bright. "Kreacher wishes his master a very happy birthday indeed, sir," he greeted, pulling the chair back away from the table.

To say that Harry was stunned would be an understatement. All his life, the matter of his birthday had been of little more importance than any other day. The Dursleys had certainly never bothered to acknowledge it. The best he had ever come to expect was a parcel each from the handful of friends he had made at Hogwarts. And, considering he had so effectively ostracized himself from them for the time being, he'd expected nothing at all in terms of celebration this year.

Working past his initial shock, Harry slowly came round and sat in his chair, trying hard not to stare at his house elf. "How did you know-?"

"That it was Master Harry's birthday, sir?" Kreacher looked momentarily somber as he revealed, "Remembers Sirius Black sending a package or two on this day, Kreacher does. He apologizes if he has done anything wrong…"

Knowing what the result would be if his house elf had believed his attempts failed, Harry quickly shook his head. "No," he assured. "I-I just didn't expect… _this_. You've outdone yourself, Kreacher, really. Thank you."

Kreacher looked properly embarrassed by the compliment. "Would Master like his breakfast now, sir, or would he first want his presents?"

"There are presents involved, too?"

The house elf gave a vigorous nod that sent his large ears flapping. "Kreacher thought all through the night, sir. He asks himself, what would his master want more than anything?" Here, he paused. "He apologizes again, sir; Kreacher could not think what that would be. But Kreacher hopes Master Harry will like his presents, all the same."

"I'm sure I will," Harry smiled.

"If you will come with Kreacher, then." The house elf crossed to the kitchen door, motioning to Harry.

Very much intrigued, Harry left his chair and followed into the hall. Several paces later, they paused before a wall covered in recently dusted black drapes. Harry knew a moment of uncertainty - behind those drapes was the overly large picture of Sirius' mother, Kreacher's beloved Mistress, which had taken a nasty habit of shrilling at the top of her painted lungs at the slightest noise. When first Harry had spent time in this house, he and many others had tried removing the painting, but common rumor had it that the thing had been permanently affixed to the wall by magic.

Kreacher seemed to read Harry's thoughts, but offered a smile closely resembling that of a mischievous imp. He hopped up and grabbed a cord, which he pulled down with him as he slowly fell again to the floor. The drapes drew apart, and Harry's heart missed a beat to discover that the painting no longer depicted Mistress Black - but _Sirius and himself_.

Harry stared, hardly daring to believe it. Harry's painted self smiled down at him with all the light and happiness that seemed to have left him on the same day as had his godfather. He was wearing dignified wizard's robes of scarlet and gold. Sirius stood behind him, arm around his shoulders, but robed in the colors of his family - black and silver - and looked as healthy and well-groomed as in the picture of Harry's parents' wedding.

Harry bit back sudden tears, but could not help a smile of his own. "You're wrong, Kreacher," he choked beyond a thickness in his throat. "I don't think I could've asked for anything better."

"Kreacher is pleased, sir."

"Where-" He cleared his throat, "Where did the other painting go?"

There was a slight pause, and when he looked Harry saw that the house elf looked slightly ashamed. "Kreacher used his own magic to de-spell his Mistress' screaming and put her painting in his own room, where it is too dark and quiet for his Mistress to find anything to complain about…"

He laughed, "Really? All that effort, and all we had to do to get rid of her was to ask if you'd like to keep her for yourself?"

Kreacher slowly nodded, apparently not knowing whether he had done something naughty. But Harry just kept smiling, turning his head to look again at the new addition to House Black. Then he remembered, "Hang on… Didn't you say there was something else?"

"Yes, Master Harry."

Harry returned his attention to his house elf. "I don't know how you're going to top this, but go ahead. What have you got?"

Kreacher held up a fist and, at a curious quirk of Harry's eyebrow, spread open his fingers to reveal a silver ring in his palm. Harry blinked, carefully taking what looked to be a priceless heirloom between his fingers and holding it level with his gaze. It was a signet ring, spun of twisted silver and emblazoned with a black snake slithering behind a bold capital _**B**_ - the Black family crest. Within, the ring had been inscribed with the Black family motto: _Toujours Pur_.

At Harry's questioning look, Kreacher hastened to explain. "When Master Sirius left, my Mistress passed the ring to Master Regulus instead. That is why Master Sirius did not give it to you in his will, sir. But after Master Regulus… After he…" The house elf took a breath, composing himself. "Kreacher took Master's ring and hid it. He did nothing wrong, he knew his Mistress would not want it sold outside the family. But Harry Potter is now Head of the family, sir, and Kreacher knows that his new master must receive what is rightfully his."

Harry swallowed with difficulty, suddenly taken with the urge to consult with the painted image of his godfather. Sirius' likeness gave a smile and shrugged his shoulder, as though to say, "Well, who else?" Beside him, Harry's own likeness nodded encouragingly and held up his right hand, where a painted replica of the ring already rested upon his first finger. Finding no reason not to follow suit, Harry slipped the signet ring on, just like his painted likeness, and he smiled again at his house elf.

"Thank you, Kreacher."

~o~

The last surprise arrived just after Harry had finished his breakfast. He stood, ready to leave the kitchen to continue his renovation project, when he heard a quiet tapping at a covered window. His curiosity getting the better of him, Harry crossed the kitchen, pulled back the curtain - and stared upon discovering the golden sparrow hawk from the day before waiting on the other side of the glass.

Pushing beyond his shock, he unlatched the window and let the bird in; the sparrow hawk glided past his head and perched atop the back of his dining chair. Harry carefully approached it, and the bird watched his progress steadily. When he reached the chair, Harry held out his hand. Like before, the bird gave a soft crooning sound and nipped at his fingertips. Then it surprised Harry even further by leaving the chair to perch instead upon his forearm.

Harry hissed through his teeth as the bird's talons dug into his skin, but he found himself giving a bemused grin. "Why do I get the feeling you never returned to the Post after delivering my letter?" The bird gave that same crooning sound, and Harry lightly passed the knuckles of his other hand over the feathers of its chest. "I'm not sorry to see that you've escaped such an unfair end, little merlin. But are you sure I'm right for you? Will I be enough for your pride?"

This time the sparrow hawk gave a small screech, nipping a little harder at Harry's fingers to show its annoyance. Harry nearly laughed aloud, feeling he had received all the answer he was going to get. "If you're going to stay, you'll need a proper name. I can't keep calling you 'little merlin'." He fell silent, something in the way those gleaming amber eyes were watching him giving him pause. "Well… He _was_ a legendary warlock. I mean, even the Muggles had heard of him…"

And that was how Esmiril**(2)** had earned his name.

~o~

One month later found Harry sitting in a compartment of the Hogwarts Express, waiting for it to start off for its destination. It had been very difficult for him to accomplish this feat, for as soon as he had entered King's Cross he had been assailed with witches and wizards wishing to express their gratitude. Their grateful words and eagerness to shake his hand had nearly caused him to miss the train. He counted himself lucky that he had waited until the last minute to purchase his school supplies. Diagon Alley itself had not been nearly so crowded.

The door to his compartment slid open, and he found he could only spare a half-hearted smile when he saw that his privacy had been invaded by none other than Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. He might have known that they would not have been able to resist the chance to check on him. After all, despite their profound loyalty, they had kept to their word to not disturb him these past few months.

"Harry," Hermione gasped, throwing herself forth into his arms and giving him no other choice but to catch her.

"Hey," Ron greeted, though he hung back and leaned against the wall. "How've you been, mate?"

"Coping," he answered honestly. He looked down with another smile at Hermione, who had yet to release him, and he glanced up at his best friend.

The redhead lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "She's been that worried about you."

"Well," Hermione spoke up defensively, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear as she drew away at last. "So has Ron, but he seems to be too proud to admit to it."

"Am not," he calmly retaliated. "Yeah, I was worried. But I barely had time to dwell on it, had I?" A slight clicking sound overhead interrupted him, and Ron lifted his eyes in surprise. "What is _that_?"

Harry and Hermione looked up as well, and Harry smiled. "Esmiril," he called. The golden hawk, which had until then been snoozing on an overhead rack, now glided down and landed quietly atop Harry's knee.

"He's beautiful," Hermione gasped, staring as sunlight from the window glinted off the bird's golden feathers. She nearly reached out with her hand, but then drew back when Esmiril clicked his beak in warning.

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry laughed. He lightly thumped his forefinger atop the bird's head, "That wasn't fair, little merlin. At least give her the chance to earn your trust." Esmiril puffed up his little chest, ruffling his own feathers in a show of haughty indignation. Sighing, Harry returned his attention to his friends. "What did you mean by not having any time?"

The two grew suddenly quiet. Neither questioned the sparrow hawk's presence, for which Harry was exceedingly grateful. He did not want to bring up Hedwig, or hear from his closest friends their theory that perhaps _this_ bird was to be her unlikely replacement.

It was with a slight coloring of his face and neck that Ron finally answered, "Dad and I have been busy adding on to the Burrow. A lot of work, it's been, even with Charlie and Percy lending a hand, but… I think it'll be worth it."

Harry looked from one to the other, suddenly certain he was missing something big. "Right," he snapped good-humoredly. "What's happened?"

"Do you want to tell him the good news," Hermione asked of Ron. "Or shall I?"

"Which part," the redhead cracked with a grin.

She rolled her eyes at him and returned her full attention upon Harry. She lifted up her left hand. Harry stared, but then broke out in an even wider smile. Embracing Hermione's third finger was a thin gold band with a very modest-sized diamond.

Harry looked up. Ron had stuffed his hands into his pockets and was hanging his head with an embarrassed smirk.

"There's more," Hermione spoke again, dragging Harry's attention back to her. She had lowered her hand and was blushing so deeply she might have passed for a tomato. "But it absolutely can_not_ leave this compartment."

Startled, Harry looked again to Ron. The redhead had lifted his gaze and was now watching Harry intently, his smirk gone. The energy in the room had shifted, and Harry's earlier assumption that this was going to be big came back with a vengeance. "I swear it. Not a soul."

And Hermione revealed what Harry had already guessed somewhere in his gut. "We're going to have a baby."

Harry threw up a silent thank-you to whoever was listening that he was already sitting down; he doubted his legs would have been able to hold him after hearing that. He stared at the both of them in turn, before finally settling on Hermione. "Are you mental? You shouldn't be coming back to Hogwarts, if…"

"It'll be all right," she smiled. Taking both of his hands in her own, she assured, "I'm only a couple of months along, Harry. I've already promised Ron that I won't run myself ragged like usual, and I've sent a letter to Professor McGonagall explaining that after the holidays I'll need to finish my studies through correspondence so that I can return to the Burrow."

"The holidays?"

She nodded, "That's all the Healer - or Ron - would allow me. Then I go back to the Burrow, where I'm sure Mrs. Weasley will be delighted to have me, and by then my own parents will be visiting the Burrow as well. Just until the baby arrives, you see."

"Looks like you got a secret of your own, mate," Ron suddenly accused, finally taking note of the signet embracing the first finger of Harry's right hand.

"No secret," Harry smirked, holding up his hand for them to see. "It's a Black family heirloom. Kreacher passed it along to me on my birthday."

The two exchanged a look, and Ron looked extremely guilty. "Your birthday… We didn't even think to send you a card…"

"Think I'm going to hold that against you? Like you said, you were distracted. And I _did_ ask not to be disturbed over the summer." As an afterthought, he teased, "Make it up to me next year, if it'll make you feel better."

Even Hermione gave a soft giggle. "Deal."

The train gave a sudden jerk, at last ready to start its long journey toward Hogwarts Castle, and Ron pushed away from the wall to assist his fiancée to her feet. "Sorry, mate," he grinned at Harry. "But we're still prefects, and I'm sure you wanted this compartment to yourself, anyway."

Esmiril flew up to perch atop the back of the seat as Harry stood to give Hermione and even Ron one more hug before they went. "Congratulations," he softly called after them, even as Ron slid the door shut. He sat down again, and Esmiril returned to his knee. Harry absently stroked the bird's feathers, still very stunned at the secret that had been shared with him. Though he understood all too well why they wouldn't have wanted it to be spread about at Hogwarts.

Barely twenty minutes had passed before there came a knock to the door of his compartment. Esmiril clicked his beak in annoyance, but Harry ignored it, watching the scenery pass outside his window and letting his thoughts drift where they would. But then whoever it was knocked again, and the door slid quietly open.

"I know I'm the last person you want to see," spoke a very familiar voice. "But no one else would let me share their compartment, and the witch pushing the lunch trolley snapped at me for trying to sit in the corridor."

Harry dragged his eyes away from the window, certain he had imagined it. But no, there he stood, none other than Draco Malfoy himself. Harry didn't know what surprised him more: The fact that Malfoy was aboard the train in the first place, or that he was asking permission to join Harry in his compartment. Not trusting himself to speak, he shrugged and turned back to his window. There was a brief pause, before the door slid shut and he sensed the other wizard sitting on the seat opposite him. Harry glanced at him from the corner of his eye, feeling something amiss.

This was not like his premonition moments before his best friends' announcement. What he felt now was not anticipation. But neither was it dread.

This was… questioning the new and unknown…

Malfoy's robes were faded, and heavily wrinkled, and his shoes were badly scuffed. He had slouched low in his seat, and his head rested against the wall beside him. His blond hair was no longer slicked back, but had grown enough that it framed his face and fell into his slate-grey eyes. He, too, was now staring out through the window, though it almost seemed that he was watching for something. Not as though bored, or even nervously - but still expectantly, as though waiting for something familiar to flit amongst the passing scenery and then disappear again before he could catch it.

Where was the arrogance? Where was the snide cockiness and sense of superiority that had once twisted that mouth and given those eyes that frosted glare that now seemed to have… fled…?

"You can stop staring," Malfoy softly spoke, jarring Harry out of his musings. "I didn't come in here to try to hex you."

Esmiril gave an indignant screech, flying up to peck at the window glass. Harry spared a moment to let him out so that he could follow the train from the sky, and then he sat back to watch Malfoy openly now that he had been discovered. "Then why _are_ you here?"

"I told you," the blond answered with more patience than Harry could ever remember receiving from him. "I'd been banned from the rest of the train."

"Can't you just sit in the prefects' compartment, or share one with some of your Slytherin friends?"

"They were the first to shun me, Potter. To them, I'm as much a traitor as was my father." He paused, grey eyes flicking toward Harry before returning to the window. "I'm not a prefect anymore, either."

Harry sat up, staring. "What? Since when?"

"Officially, since I received my Hogwarts letter. I sent in my response, along with a request to McGonagall that she find someone else to be prefect. Someone who wouldn't abuse it."

"Like you did?"

Almost as soon as he had said those words, Harry found himself inexplicably regretting them. Something flashed within Malfoy's eyes, something dark and troubled, and the blond muttered only, "Yeah…"

Harry sighed. "Look, I'm-"

"No you're not, Potter," he softly interrupted, not a hint of venom in his accusation. "You meant what you said, and I know I deserve worse. Don't pretend to pity me; you'll have your admirers questioning your sanity."

"I never wanted-!"

"I know," Malfoy broke in again, still quiet, still patient. "I've always known you never wanted that kind of attention. I was just too full of myself to let you believe I knew it." Shifting in his seat, he tipped his head back against the cushions of his bench and closed his eyes with a low sigh.

Harry stared at him for several moments, and finally could not help but to ask. "What happened to you? Where's the Draco Malfoy that prided himself in giving me hell at every opportunity?"

"In my defense," the blond replied without bothering to open his eyes, "you struck first."

"What?"

"Think back. You called me the wrong sort, wouldn't shake my hand…"

Now Harry remembered. "You mean the first time we rode this train before first year. But I didn't like what you'd said about Ron's family, so technically it was you that struck first."

"I was eleven years old and parroting my father, Potter." Malfoy lifted a hand to pass his fingers through the strands of his hair in an attempt to get them out of his eyes.

Harry glimpsed something then, and he knew a sudden moment of reluctant alarm. "Malfoy… W-what…?"

Briefly opening his eyes to determine what Harry meant, Malfoy sighed and dropped his hand to his side, effectively hiding his wrist and the raw burn mark Harry had glimpsed there. "I'd rather not talk about it," he answered, closing his eyes again. "If you don't mind."

If they had been in sixth year again, and if Harry had not been utterly confident in his victory over Voldemort, he would have demanded an explanation. Right then and there. As it was, he found himself quirking his mouth in a slow grin instead. "You know that's only going to encourage me to find out for myself…"

"I know," the blond accepted, seeming not to care as he yawned and rolled his head toward the window. But then he flinched his head up for a second, eyebrows coming together in a pinch of apparent pain, before he settled his head more gingerly against the back of his seat.

And Harry wondered at that, too.

~o~

Some hours later, the train gave a subtle jerk as it began to slow. Harry, having already let his sparrow hawk in again long before Hogwarts Castle had come into view, now quietly coaxed Esmiril into his new cage. The bird nipped at Harry's fingers as he latched the cage door - Harry's hands were now looking as though he had plunged them into a barrel of razor blades, but he only gave a fond smile. Esmiril's affection could not be plainer.

Once the bird was secured, Harry turned and smacked the side of Malfoy's knee. The blond came awake instantly, blinking his eyes open and lifting his head. Glancing out the window, finding how near they were to the castle, he sat up and dropped his face to his hands. Harry heard a quiet yawn and watched as Malfoy rubbed at his face to chase away any evidence that he had fallen asleep.

"You confuse me, Malfoy," Harry commented, the words out before he could help himself.

"Yeah?" He dropped his hands and lifted his head, a crooked smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I don't doubt that."

With a rueful shake of his head, wondering that they seemed effortlessly to have left their rivalry behind, Harry stood and stretched his arms over his head, only swaying a little when the train finally jerked to a complete stop. He had already sent most of his things to the castle over the last several weeks, and so this time had with him only Esmiril and a small duffle which contained last-minute packed clothes and an extra pouch of spending money.

He dragged this last out from under his seat and hefted it over shoulder, taking up Esmiril's cage on his way to the compartment door, but then he paused and glanced back.

Draco Malfoy had remained in his seat, calmly watching as Harry prepared to leave. His slate-grey eyes still held a touch of weariness, but the blond only gave another crooked smirk as though he was hiding a secret of his own. "See you, Potter."

After a long minute, Harry nodded.

"Yeah… See you."

2) Merlin is such a well-known legend, that the question of whether he truly existed has been met with thousands of theories worldwide. His name has been translated countless times in as many languages. "Esmiril" happens to be one of my favorites.


	3. The New Professor

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Three - The New Professor**

It was most unusual to see the head of the staff table to be filled by someone other than Albus Dumbledore, but Harry consoled himself with the thought that McGonagall would do nothing short of her best to become worthy of such an honor. She stood now, looking over the Great Hall, seeming to study the students that sat at their own House tables and were looking back at her. The start-of-year feast had always begun with one of Dumbledore's speeches, and it was obviously expected of McGonagall this year.

"Welcome all," she spoke. "And to those returning, welcome back. I understand that for most, arriving here today must feel quite odd. I will not ignore that the memory of what transpired here last year must have burned into most of your minds, but I do encourage you to please strive to view this one as any other year at Hogwarts. Now, before we begin, two short announcements. As always, the Forest which lies behind this castle is strictly and most explicitly forbidden. This year, however, I must impress these restrictions even more strongly upon _all_ students. Hogwarts is hosting a small number of guests, all of which have taken residence in the Forest. For their safety, and for your own, do _not_ intrude upon them."

Many students murmured at this, their suspicion aroused. Harry found he couldn't care less - he'd had enough adventure to outlast ten lifetimes - but he did know a moment of vague curiosity when he glimpsed Malfoy across the Great Hall. The blond was sitting near the end of his table, apart from the other Slytherins, and staring down at his hands almost… nervously.

"For the other bit of news," McGonagall went on, and the Hall fell silent again. "As Headmistress, I may no longer Head the House of Gryffindor. I regret this deeply, for I've some fond memories of the experience. Declaration of my replacement will be announced next week. Meanwhile, allow me to introduce one of our new professors, who will be teaching this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts."

She motioned with her hand toward someone seated at the end of the table. Harry looked, and he watched as a man cloaked in black pushed his chair back and stood. The hood of the man's cloak had been pulled over his head, so that all that Harry could make of him was a face shrouded in shadow.

"His name is Yusuke Urameshi," McGonagall went on. "He is descended from Japan, but rest assured that he is quite fluent in the English language. I expect you all to show Professor Urameshi the respect one of his post deserves. Now, then. Haven't we better get on with the feast?"

In answer, food and drinks appeared upon all the tables and the students dug in most heartily. Harry, however, found he was not hungry. His eyes lingered on the new professor, who had left his place at the staff table and was now speaking quietly into McGonagall's ear. The Headmistress did not appear surprised by whatever it was he had said, nodding and saying something that Harry could not quite hear. Then the new professor, whose face Harry still could not see, bowed to McGonagall and strode away, leaving not only the table but the Great Hall itself.

"Something the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked from across the Gryffindor table. Beside her, Ron looked up.

"No," he answered. "I was just missing Dumbledore…"

It was true, in its own right. But what he did not mention was that at this particular moment he would have liked to have the wizened old man sitting there to answer Harry's questions with those enigmatic riddles that had once irked him to no end. Even without a straight answer, Dumbledore had at least been able to set Harry in the right direction.

Sympathy filled the eyes of his best friends, and they returned to their meal. But Harry glanced across the hall toward the Slytherin table and found Draco Malfoy looking back at him. The blond caught his gaze, but then glanced aside. Harry did not doubt that the Slytherin was wondering a few things, himself - even if Harry didn't yet know what such things were.

~o~

The next morning, Harry descended into the Gryffindor common room. He had not been able to sleep as well as he had hoped, and was now awake an hour before anyone else. Sighing, he sat down in one of the armchairs before the hearth. He knew it was too early to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and he was not much hungry anyway. But, after skipping dinner the night before, he suspected he had better eat something soon.

With a short screech to announce his arrival, Esmiril flew in through a window someone had left open the night before, landing on Harry's outstretched forearm. Harry winced, feeling the bird's talons through his sleeve. "I hope this doesn't mean I'll have to start wearing gloves. Now, what are you doing here? Aren't you making friends in the owlery?"

Esmiril shook himself so that his feathers ruffled noisily, and Harry could not decide whether to be amused or annoyed that his sparrow hawk was still too proud to get along with the other students' owls. "I know you'll miss me during the day, but try to stay out of trouble. Oh," he added, suddenly remembering. "And if you go hunting, do me a favor and leave the owls be. Especially the tiny one that can't sit still to save his life. That's Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl, and I'd hate to have to tell him some morning that my little merlin couldn't resist such an overexcited puffball."

Esmiril now dipped his head aside and looked at Harry with one amber eye in an almost chagrined manner. Chuckling, Harry stroked the bird's feathers and accepted one last nip at his fingers before Esmiril flew off again out the window. Harry watched the bird go, and then something unbidden urged him to call out, but to someone else entirely.

"Kreacher."

With a _crack_, the house elf was there, standing beside the arm of his chair and looking up at Harry with due curiosity. "Master?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Kreacher. I know it's against the rules to summon you here…"

"Kreacher will not breathe a word, sir."

Harry smiled. "I wasn't worried that you would. I'd only wanted to ask a favor. But I want you to understand that this is _not_ an order. You're allowed to refuse if the idea doesn't suit you."

"Sir?"

Harry hesitated, feeling like a child asking for a light to help him get through the night. Which, ironically, he had never needed. "Could you stay here in the castle, maybe work in the kitchens again like before? I think I must've gotten used to having you close by, and…"

"Kreacher understands, sir," the house elf interrupted, something almost gentle in the gruff quality of his voice. "Kreacher was finding House Black empty without his Master Harry there, too, sir. He likes the idea of staying in the castle again, to be near when his master calls."

"So… You'll do it?"

"Kreacher was only waiting for Master Harry to ask." And, with another resounding _crack_, he had gone - presumably to the kitchens to announce his return to the other house-elves. Harry smiled, feeling a weight he had not known to be there lifting away from his chest, and he turned his eyes toward the hearth.

Some minutes later, Ron and Hermione came down to the common room, both claiming to have heard a noise which Harry casually waved away. They sat and talked for a while, and then left to have their breakfasts. Ron and Hermione gave a curious look at Harry's goblet, which had been filled with water instead of the usual pumpkin juice, but they said nothing. Harry smiled to himself as he drank from his goblet: Pumpkin juice no longer felt like an everyday thing for Harry, and Kreacher knew it.

The day passed almost uneventfully. Harry and Ron had to share some of their classes alone, as Hermione had an extra few free periods to allow her the rest she would need in the months to come. But she was there to join them for their last class of the day, which turned out to be Defense Against the Dark Arts, the only class the Gryffindors shared with the Slytherins.

"This ought to be good," Ron commented as they claimed three desks close to each other.

"Ron, don't," Hermione patiently chided. "We don't even know this professor; you might get to like him."

"Yeah, maybe," he conceded. "All I'm saying is that the teaching job for this class has been jinxed, hasn't it, so I'm wondering who'd be gung-ho enough…"

Harry knew Ron had a point. Before he had become Voldemort, Tom Riddle had cursed the school so that none would take the post from which he had been turned away for longer than a year. But Voldemort had been vanquished. Harry suspected McGonagall thought that to mean what he thought it did, that perhaps the jinx had been lifted and that there was a chance this professor would be sticking around for a while.

He glanced around the classroom, surprised that so many of the seventh years were returning students. There were considerably fewer returning Slytherins than Gryffindors, however, but that was almost expected. Yet Harry's eyes caught sight of a head of blond hair across the room, and he mentally applauded that Draco Malfoy was determined enough to join, when all he had been greeted with so far were the snubs of all the Houses, including his own.

A door to the side of the room slammed open, and the new professor strode in, still wearing the same black robes as the night before. The door swung shut behind him, but he paid it no mind, crossing to the front of the class and turning to face his students. As before, the hood of his cloak had been pulled forward over his head and cast a shadow over most of his face. And when he spoke at last, though his voice resonated almost hypnotically, Harry was greatly surprised that it sounded so young.

"Let me start by getting a few things out of the way," the new professor suggested. "Just so we understand one another - no, I'm not a wizard. But I'm not human either, so I'd appreciate it if no one called me 'Muggle' or 'Squib' behind my back." He paused, noticing Hermione had raised her hand. "What?"

She lowered her hand; "What may we call you, Professor?"

"Well, 'Professor' is _definitely_ out," he remarked, the part of his face visible under his hood revealing a cocky quirk of his mouth. "Since I don't think you can get away with knowing me on a first-name basis, just use my last name and we'll do fine. Urameshi," he reminded, seeing that a number of hands had gone up at that. The hands went down again. "Now. As to what I am, exactly… That's a part of what I'll be teaching you this year. Who here can tell me something about demons?"

There was a general hesitation from the students but, amazingly, it was not Hermione who'd raised her hand first. Urameshi pointed to a corner of the room, where Draco Malfoy lowered his hand and stood.

The expression on the blond's face was unreadable, but his grey eyes never left the new professor as he quietly answered, "Knowledge about the demons is mistaken. Throughout our history books, it's been believed that demons are comparable to imps, both for their size and for their love of mischief. _I_ believe… that the truth is more complicated. I believe that they might come in all sizes and breeds, some with intelligence greater than our own. And I believe that, in the same way that the Muggles are generally unaware of the Wizarding world, _we_ have been very unaware of the possibility that there could be demons living among us."

Stunned silence fell heavily over the classroom. The other Slytherins looked at Malfoy as though he was a great embarrassment, while the Gryffindors seemed to be glancing toward Hermione for confirmation. Harry, however, simply sat in his seat, wondering that the blond's hand was fisted so tightly at his side.

Urameshi seemed to be smirking again beneath the hood of his cloak, and he nodded as Malfoy returned to his seat. "For guessin', that wasn't half-bad. Hell of a lot closer than I expected to hear on the first day. Thirty points."

Hermione slowly raised her hand. "A-are you saying… You're one of these demons you're going to teach us about?"

The new professor gave yet another smirk. "Yeah."

The students murmured amongst themselves in curious disbelief, until suddenly another hand shot up into the air, this time from the other side of the room. "How do we know you're not some Muggle playing pretend?"

A deep and ripping snarl echoed off the walls, and in a blur of movement and the clatter of a desk and its chair toppling over Urameshi was suddenly crouched over the unfortunate doubter, whom he had pinned to the floor. Somehow, the hood of his cloak still hid his face, but not the dark and dangerous sneer that twisted his mouth.

"Convinced?" Urameshi demanded. The Slytherin quickly nodded. "Good," the professor approved, straightening away and letting his student get to his feet as well. "Count yourself lucky, kid. There may be laws against attacking humans, but there are some of us who like to ignore them."

When the Slytherin had shakily returned to his seat, Urameshi turned to the rest of his class. "Let's get this straight, right here and now. I've always hated authority, but I won't just sit around and take your shit, either." - (A great number of the students gasped and murmured at the use of such profane language.) - "I don't pick fights with the defenseless, but if you're not smart enough to avoid pissin' me off I'll be sure to give you enough bruises to make you think better of it next time."

He gave the Slytherin who had questioned him a long look; "I know _you_ learned enough not to come lookin' for round two, haven't you, kid?"

His student nodded quickly, still looking a bit shaken from their encounter.

"I'm a demon," Urameshi emphasized once more to the class. "Think of me as a stray dog you'd find in some alley. I don't know you, and you're trespassing into my territory. Cross my path, I growl. Invade my space, I show my fangs." He smirked again, this time peeling his lips back, letting all see that he wasn't bluffing. "Keep coming too close… and I guarantee you'll get hurt. Questions?"

Every head in the class shook in the negative. All had understood the warning, very clearly.

"Good," he approved once more. And then the not-so-veiled threat was all but forgotten, as Urameshi gave a less devious smirk and asked, "Now, how many of you'd like to see what a demon looks like?"

Nearly every hand shot up into the air; even the doubter in Slytherin cautiously added his vote. Harry left his down; confident that it was going to happen either way. But, once again catching himself glancing toward the opposite side of the room, he wondered that Malfoy's hand was not up as well. After the way he had earned his House some points, Harry had almost expected the blond to be among the first to cast his vote. Yet Malfoy merely sat there in silence, eyes focused on the professor as though waiting for the answer to an unasked riddle.

"Thought so." The professor moved his hand to the clasp of his cloak, quickly undoing it and throwing the cloak off him. It drifted to the floor some paces away, unnoticed, and a collective gasp issued from the students as they stared at their Defense professor.

He looked quite human, despite his claim, but there were some details that made him appear… feral. He wore no shirt, perhaps to let show the numerous chalky markings tattooed over his arms and torso, and he was barefoot. His skin, where the tattoos did not mark him, was a dusty brown that seemed foreign especially considering his Japanese descent. His black hair was wild and untamed, falling behind his knees and into eyes so dark a brown that they too looked almost black.

Urameshi lifted up a hand, letting all see that his nails were elongated and subtly sharpened like the talons of a bird of prey. Then he grinned, baring his teeth, which did include a set of fangs fit for a wolf. "The game," he revealed, "is simple. With just how I look to go on, I want all of you to try to guess what kind of demon I am. Not the specific breed," he added, seeing some of the students blanch at the idea. "That'll come later. Just… what you think I might be capable of. That kind of thing." He pointed to Hermione, "Since I can't do it myself, how about a scoreboard on one of these walls? One House against the other, five points for every correct guess, two taken for every strike."

Hermione nodded, taking up her wand as she straightened to her feet. With a flick of her wrist and a muttered incantation, the wall she aimed at labeled itself with bright blue lettering: GRYFFINDOR VS SLYTHERIN.

"Nice," Urameshi approved. "Whichever House with the higher score by the end of class will be given the points they'd earned. Sounds fair enough, right? Who wants to go first?"

It was entertaining to watch, Harry mused, taking himself out of the game from the very start to observe his classmates instead. Ron guessed that the fangs meant that Urameshi was a predator, but it was Hermione who added that the claws would be used for both attack and defense. But there were more wrong guesses than right. Someone from Slytherin, for example, surmised that Urameshi's slight build stacked him among the weaker demons - though Urameshi himself seemed amused that someone would think that.

But it was Malfoy again that earned the most points. He argued against his fellow Slytherin that Urameshi's build was not slight, but compact, meant more for speed than power. He also pointed out that Urameshi's unusual eyes meant that he was a nocturnal predator by nature. But he seemed to surprise even the new professor when he mentioned that Urameshi's tattoos and long wild hair were a hereditary trait that marked the demon as one of ancient birth and noble class.

"What's your name?" Urameshi demanded.

"Draco Malfoy," he answered as quietly.

The young professor virtually stalked over to the blond Slytherin's desk. Dropping his palms to the desk, he leaned forward. The class grew hushed, as though expecting Malfoy to have broken a rule. But Harry was more curious than worried, especially when Urameshi's dark eyes chanced to glance down and narrowed upon finding the burn mark peeking out from under Malfoy's sleeve. Looking up again, the tattooed professor's lips pulled back in a slow smirk that bared his fangs once again.

"You're staying after class," he said, and it was not a request.

Malfoy did not meet other's steady gaze as he tugged his sleeve further over his wrist. "Yes, sir."

"Don't call me 'sir'." Urameshi responded, straightening away from Malfoy's desk and turning back to the rest of the class. "So. Where were we?"

Malfoy didn't play along after that.

The game lasted as long as the professor had predicted it would, ending only when the bell sounded to announce the cessation of the day's classes. Due almost entirely to Malfoy's earlier contributions, the Slytherins prevailed and took with them thirty-four extra points. The students all took up their things and filed out the door, Ron and Hermione among them.

"That _was_ interesting," Hermione quietly commented.

"Who do you think's teaching the underclassmen," Ron suddenly wondered.

"What do you mean?"

"He said he isn't magic, so… All the spells and things we learned up until now, how's _he_ going to teach them to the first-through-sixth years?"

Hermione didn't have an answer to that, shrugging as she let her fiancé lead her out of the classroom. Harry followed more slowly, an absent smile tugging at his lips as Hermione tried to convince Ron to let her spend at least one hour in the library wing before they returned to the common room. But he did not head toward the Gryffindor tower himself, instead lingering outside the classroom door.

He'd had to wait several minutes before Malfoy finally came out. The blond did not seem surprised to see Harry there, even greeting him with a quiet, "Hey…"

"What happened," Harry asked without preamble. "What'd he want?"

Malfoy shrugged a shoulder. "He wanted to ask me how I knew so much, without the entire class listening in. So I told him."

"And?" Harry wondered, "How _did_ you know?"

His mouth quirked in a slow smirk that did not quite reach his slate-grey eyes. "Sorry," he muttered. "It's not something I feel up to repeating…" There was a brief pause, but then he looked up and met Harry's gaze. "Are you returning to your common room?"

Harry hesitated. "No. I was actually planning on wandering about the grounds for a while. There's… someone I need to see…"

Something flickered across Malfoy's eyes, and he glanced away. "It'd be wrong for me to ask whether I might come along, wouldn't it…"

"I don't see how," another's resonating voice cut in. Both young wizards turned to find Urameshi standing within the doorway to his classroom. He was again garbed in his dark cloak, the hood of which pulled over his head to hide his eyes. "Come on," he said, ignoring their surprise at his sudden appearance. "I think I'd like to visit him too." And he started down the corridor, never once glancing over his shoulder to be sure they would follow.

Harry exchanged a startled look with Malfoy, who looked equally stunned, and they both hurried after the new professor.


	4. Tears

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Four - Tears**

The tomb of white marble stood silently by the shores of the lake, restored to its original and magnificent serenity. Malfoy hung back a little as Harry stepped forth to gently caress the stone with his hand. There were no tears in Harry's eyes, but a deep-rooted sense of loss which he suspected he would never again be without. Vaguely, he wondered what had been done with Severus Snape, whom Harry felt deserved at least as much honor as had been given to Dumbledore.

"I'm sorry, Potter," Draco Malfoy sighed, still unwilling to draw any closer. "It was my fault…"

"No," Harry shook his head. "He'd known he was about to die long before that night in the tower." He caught Malfoy's startled look, and he explained only, "I'll tell you the whole story some other time."

Urameshi, who had also lingered behind to allow Harry his moment, now stepped forth and passed his own fingers along the carved letters of Dumbledore's name. "I've never met him, myself," he gruffly revealed, shocking the both of them. "I barely know anything about him."

"Nothing?" Harry repeated. "But, I thought-"

"No, I wasn't a friend of his. But my lover was," he sighed, something akin to pain deepening the timbre of his voice. "Frankly, that's how I got this job. And because I owed a few favors. But it's keeping me away from home…" He trailed off, dropping his hand from the tomb and turning his head aside.

Harry did not know what to say. Here before him stood a demon who, according to Malfoy's mysterious knowledge, was an unmatched predator of the night. And yet, Urameshi was exhibiting qualities so… human… that Harry could not help feeling a bit of sympathy for the professor he had only known for a day.

But all such talk of lovers and of loss finally jarred something in Harry's mind, something he was amazed he had not thought of sooner. "Damn…"

Both Malfoy and Urameshi looked at him curiously. With a hurried apology, he excused himself and raced back toward the castle. He took the tower stairs two at a time, his heart thundering against his ribs as though berating him for his stupidity. He had been back a whole day - _why_ hadn't he thought to look for her sooner?

"Kreacher!"

The house elf immediately appeared, his short legs a blur as he tried to keep up with his master. Harry snatched him up in his arms, still running. Kreacher looked extremely grateful, as he panted, "Here… sir…"

"Do you know where Ginny Weasley is?"

Kreacher Disapparated, and Harry could hear a series of _cracks_ echoing throughout the tower, evidence of the elf's instantaneous search. He reappeared within seconds, this time Apparating directly onto Harry's back and hanging on to his master's shoulders as the young wizard ran. "Mistress Ginny… is not within the tower, Master Harry."

Harry skidded to a halt in a deserted corridor, and he stared at the house elf still clinging to his shoulders. "What?"

"Kreacher is sorry, sir. But he cannot find Mistress Ginny anywhere."

"Search the rest of the castle, then. Or the grounds."

The house elf gave an almost reluctant nod, and he popped out of view to do just that. Harry swore, turning around and leaning his back heavily against the wall. Despite that house-elves could appear anywhere within seconds, it still seemed to Harry that several minutes had passed before Kreacher returned again, bowing low before Harry's feet. "Kreacher apologizes, Master Harry…"

"She's not here? Are you sure?"

The house elf nodded, a tortured expression twisting his face. On instinct, Harry dropped to his knees, swiftly catching Kreacher's wrists in his hands. Kreacher struggled viciously, though he gave it up quickly enough, tiny chest heaving with great gasps as he tried to calm himself. But now he hung his head, large pale eyes refusing to meet Harry's gaze as he continued to whimper, "Kreacher is sorry, he is sorry, sir…"

"It's not your fault," he patiently assured the elf, though mentally he was throwing every profanity he knew at himself. Over four months they had worked alongside each other at House Black, and Kreacher had been making remarkable progress in resisting the urge to punish himself. One failed request outside the security of their home, and his baser instincts were proving difficult again to ignore.

"Kreacher," Harry sighed. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I'd meant it only to be a request, but my eagerness to have it done must've made it sound like an order. I didn't even say please, or give you the option to refuse."

The house elf hiccupped, but had otherwise quieted down, his bat-like ears giving a very minute twitch to show that he was listening. Harry at last released his wrists, and Kreacher dropped to the floor, looking up at Harry with those large pale eyes. "Master Harry is Kreacher's friend," he whispered, reciting what Harry had been diligently trying to impress upon the house elf in the past months.

"Yes."

"A request does not have to be obeyed. It can be failed, or refused altogether…"

"That's right," Harry nodded.

Kreacher took a deep breath, the much-repeated guidelines seeming to steady the house elf as they had always done before. With only the barest hesitation, he recounted the last of his master's decrees. "Master Harry disapproves of self-punishment. A failed order is to be treated the same way as a failed request."

Harry rewarded him with a genuine smile. "Very good, Kreacher. Do you feel better?"

The house elf seemed to think about it, and Harry knew it was because he wanted to give an honest answer. But then Kreacher nodded, "Yes, sir. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Harry smiled again, straightening to his feet. Looking down the long corridor, where he could just see the frame of the Fat Lady portrait, he shook his head and turned away. "Well, I'm confused as hell, Kreacher," he remarked conversationally. "I think I'd better go to the library wing and ask Ron why his sister hasn't returned like the rest of us."

The house elf quickly jumped up and fell in step alongside him, "Does Master Harry need Kreacher for anything else?"

"I think I've worn you out enough for now," he teased, tossing one more smile down at the elf. "Why don't you do something for yourself for a while? So long as you stay out of trouble, it can be anything you want."

"Kreacher will polish Master Regulus' locket, sir!" And with a happy _crack_, he had gone.

Harry shook his head again as he continued toward the library, silently congratulating himself for having given into the whim to buy that polishing kit in Diagon Alley.

~o~

"She's taking the year off, mate."

Harry wavered, choosing to sit in a chair before finding himself on the floor. He swallowed, trying to get passed a sudden dry lump in his throat. Taking a breath, he asked, "Is it because of Fred…?"

"Some of it, yeah," Ron agreed, somewhat reluctantly. "Cried herself sick, she did. Had to go to St. Mungo's; bedridden for two whole months. She's up and about now," he quickly added, seeing Harry's stricken expression. "But she's lost most of her pep, and the Healer's got her on three different tonics… I didn't want to tell you, mate. Frankly, I think she'd rather I made up some other excuse so you wouldn't worry."

"But she's back at the Burrow now," Hermione put in reassuringly. "She's got her parents looking after her, and Percy's there and is sticking to her like glue. I'm sure she'd like it if you wrote her, Harry."

Ron nodded quickly, "Might cheer her up a bit."

Harry raked both hands through his dark hair with a heavy sigh, still trying to absorb everything they'd just revealed to him. Ginny… sick at home… away from Hogwarts, and him, for the entire year. How many others were so taken with grief, that they too were now seeking medical attention? Did they blame Harry, as he himself was doing at that very minute? The guilt swelled so painfully in his chest, he didn't know whether he should cry or rethink his policy on self-punishment. If Voldemort had not chosen to hunt him for the sake of some blasted prophesy… If Harry had not survived that first attack seventeen years ago… Abruptly he stood and, with the voices of his two best friends calling after him, he fled the library.

Today was no longer a good day.

Once again, he was racing through the castle. Several students stopped to stare as he passed them, most shouting his name, but he ignored every one of them. Soon he came out into the courtyard, but he didn't stop there. He let his feet take him as far as they could go - he didn't care if he ended up losing himself in the Forest, or even somewhere in the mountains beyond. But that was not where he found himself when his thigh suddenly screamed with the searing pain of a pulled muscle. With a shout he collapsed to his knees on the grass, only a handful of feet from the lake. Gripping his leg with one hand, he fell forward on the other and let loose a colorful string of profanities.

"Potter…?"

"Go away," he croaked brokenly. Lowering his other hand beside the first, he sank forward onto his elbows and dropped his forehead to the grass. "Stay away from me if you don't want to spend the rest of your life watching over your shoulder."

A hand fell to Harry's shoulder as a body settled itself at his side. At last he looked up, discovering that Draco Malfoy had been the one to find him there. The blond was crouched down on one knee, a somber light in his grey eyes as he regarded Harry. "I already do," Malfoy softly revealed. He lifted his touch from Harry's shoulder, resting his hand instead atop his raised knee and sat back on his other heel. "Now tell me what's wrong."

"Everything," Harry choked out, turning his face away in a futile attempt to hide the tears burning in his eyes. "I'm a curse to the entire Wizarding world…"

There was a slight pause, before Malfoy's voice virtually growled in his ear, "Whoever said that about you should share the Dark Lord's grave."

Startled, Harry lifted his head again. Malfoy grasped Harry by the shoulders, helping the other to stand. Something had darkened the blond's eyes, and he studied Harry for a long moment before he spoke again. "It was war, Potter. Two sides fighting for opposing causes each thought to be right."

"And dying for them," Harry interrupted before he could help himself.

"Yes," the other nodded solemnly. "Because they'd each been given something to believe in. Granted, the Dark Lord misled his share of followers, but the fact remains that they _believed_. Think, Potter. Try to put yourself in their shoes. Wasn't there anybody that made you believe in something so strongly that you'd have been willing to die for it _and_ the one who gave you that belief?"

Harry's dark green eyes widened. Immediately, his mind and heart were flooded with the face of Albus Dumbledore.

Malfoy nodded again, seeming already to guess who it was that Harry was thinking about. "Be honest with yourself, if only for a minute. If you knew - _knew_ - that you had only a few seconds left to live, that you were dying for that one cause you believed in… Would you regret it?"

And suddenly it was as though Harry was revisiting that night in the Forest, walking among the trees, to a death he'd done nothing to prevent. A great many things had flitted through his mind that night, even a handful of doubts about forever leaving behind the world he knew. But never, even for an instant, did he believe he was doing the wrong thing. And, if he was to be honest with himself as Malfoy was urging him to do, he knew that he would walk that path a second time.

"Don't you dare listen to anyone telling you it wasn't worth it," Malfoy insisted, his voice lowering to a gruff whisper. "You drove away the Death Eaters, gave a future to those who'd nearly lost hope in finding it… reunited families… If you never trust anything else I say, at least trust this - the Dark Lord only made the world afraid of him. You inspired it to defend itself."

~o~

For Harry, the next few weeks were a slow, dragging thing, shrouded in a hazy fog. He barely registered his classes and could only give the barest responses to reassure Ron and Hermione, who often looked at him as though they suspected the truth. Kreacher, having sensed something amiss, had stolen away to House Black and returned with the album of Harry's parents that Hagrid had given him his first year. It was now tucked under Harry's pillow.

His only source of unexpected comfort came in the occasional, but always private, presence of Draco Malfoy.

He seemed determined not to let Harry drown in the depression that was trying so insistently to capture him in its grasp. But Malfoy's tactics were drastically different when compared to two best friends and a house elf. He did not demand to hear what Harry was thinking, or try to distract him with old gifts, or even repeat that driven speech that still amazed Harry to know it had come from his former rival.

Instead, Malfoy was simply… there. True, there was usually some distance set between them - whether in the Great Hall or in the classroom. But often Harry would find himself looking up in search of slate-grey eyes, and somehow Malfoy would know when to look up as well, silencing Harry's uncertainties with his steady gaze.

But the darkness that had embedded itself within Harry's heart was not to be erased. Even Malfoy could not safeguard a man's dreams. And it was there that Harry was most vulnerable, haunted by the accusing faces of so many that had not escaped Voldemort's terrible wrath. In his darkest, cruelest nightmares, the eyes of those that had died would be replaced by endlessly empty sockets. And they would all turn to him with such looks on their unseeing faces, that Harry would jerk awake in the middle of the night and find his own eyes wet with tears.


	5. Following Swiftly After

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Five - Following Swiftly After**

"Don't bother sitting down," Urameshi lazily declared one Monday as the seventh years filed in through the door. "Just put your books on a desk and stand together in the center of the floor." As for himself, he was sitting atop his own desk, his arm resting atop an upraised knee, the other leg swinging freely over the edge of the desk itself. The black cloak - which he never seemed to be without when outside the classroom - had been discarded over the back of his chair.

The students' desks had all been pushed back against the walls of the room, leaving a great deal of the floor open. Harry exchanged a curious glance with Ron and Hermione, but the three wordlessly did as they were told and joined their classmates on the floor.

Urameshi smirked; "Today, you get a treat."

As though on cue, the secondary door of the classroom swung open and in stepped two beings unlike any Harry had ever seen. One stood at about two-thirds of Urameshi's height, wearing dark slacks and a black, torn-collared sleeveless shirt. His right hand and arm were heavily bandaged, and a white cloth was tied over his forehead. He had spiky black hair, streaked with white, and his garnet eyes seemed to glare at anyone who dared look at him.

The other was quite tall, and garbed in white. His skin was of the palest ivory, his waist-length hair was remarkably silver, and he had eyes the color of gold coins. Protruding from the top of his head were silk-soft fox ears, and hanging from just above the base of his spine was a thick tail to match. Harry glanced around at his classmates, finding that most of the girls from both Houses were staring. He bit on his tongue to keep from snickering at the look on some of their faces.

"These two demons are old friends of mine," Urameshi revealed as they came to stand before his desk, facing the class. "But they _are_ demons, so don't kid yourselves into thinking that they aren't dangerous. The silver one is called Kurama, and Mr. Bandage there is Hiei."

The latter turned his head to toss a rather vicious-looking scowl over his shoulder, to which Urameshi's smirk only widened. He leapt off of his desk, stepping around the two visitors to address his students. "I thought it was time you get an idea exactly how different demons are from humans, and how better to do this than by letting you see it with your own eyes. But we're gonna need a volunteer. Someone with talent in the kind of magic this place is so famous for teaching."

Everyone turned expectantly to Harry, who had to stave off the urge to roll his eyes. As he stepped forward, he caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be fighting his own amusement. Rather than take offense, Harry shook his head with a half-hearted grin, coming to a stop on the center of the floor and drawing his wand at the ready.

Urameshi gave a low whistle. "You _must_ be good, to get a vote like that."

Harry decided not to comment.

"What I want you to do," the tattooed professor instructed, "is easy enough. I want you to attack us - one at a time, or all together - with the worst, most advanced magic you can think of. I mean it," he added, seeing Harry's expression at that. "Bend a few rules, break them if you have to; I want to _know_ you're trying to hurt us."

Several seconds passed, as Harry tried to determine whether he really should attempt some of the more dangerous spells he knew. He was doing it on a professor's orders, and apparently for some educational purpose, so there seemed little chance he would be getting into trouble for it afterward. His fingers worked around his wand as he wrestled with indecision, but eventually he had to admit that his curiosity was proving irresistible.

Spell after spell after spell did he cast, each one with more effort behind it than the one before. But spell after spell after spell seemed to fall short of their target. Harry tried nearly every curse, jinx, and hex in his arsenal, and still Urameshi and his friends remained untouched. He dared not break Wizard law for a classroom demonstration, so the Unforgivable Three were out of the question.

There _was_ one more, but…

He glanced at Malfoy through the corner of his eye. The blond Slytherin was watching him silently, a blank expression on his face until he realized Harry was looking back, to which Malfoy responded by offering the barest smirk in acknowledgement. But that only made Harry's decision for him. Sighing, shaking his head, Harry Potter lowered his wand. Many murmured in surprise all around him, but he only returned his eyes to the front, watching for their professor's reaction.

Urameshi was quiet for a moment, as though waiting for more. But then the tattooed youth grinned. "Give up, did you?"

Harry nodded.

"Some of those words you threw at us sounded quite impressive," the silver-haired one commented, speaking up for the first time since he and the shorter one in black had entered the room. "What effects would they have taken, had they met their marks?"

"Disorientation," Harry answered, honestly. "Memory loss, loss of bones, paralysis, petrification, external combustion…"

"To name a few," Urameshi grinned again. While Harry turned away to stand again with his classmates, the young professor addressed the class as a whole. "I don't think it's too hard to guess by now the difference I was talkin' about. I know some of your greatest have had magic like the stuff of legends, but _we_ are _demons_. We're set apart from you humans, and on a scale you wouldn't believe. I don't know if it's our hides, or something in our blood, but your magic just _can't_ touch us."

He stepped back, pulling himself back atop his desk, and drew up one knee toward his chest. "That's not to say we're immortal. Though some of us live long enough as to make no difference," he added, smirking to his friends, who had moved to the side. "And we _have_ been known to fall, when put up against some of your worst Muggle weapons. But magic?" Urameshi shook his head, "Not happenin'. So my challenge to all of you is this: How will _you_ defend yourselves against _us_?"

There was a slight pause, and it became clear that he expected an answer. Slowly, hesitantly, Hermione raised her hand. "You said Muggle weapons could…?"

"I said, 'the worst'," Urameshi corrected, shaking his head again. "Like grenades, nuclear missiles; that kind of thing. But I don't see any of you carrying those in your pockets, and I doubt half of you even know enough about the Muggle world to get what I'm talkin' about. Any other guesses?"

Harry secretly caught Malfoy's gaze, and he thought he saw a muscle twitch in the blond's jaw as the other gave a miniscule nod and raised his hand.

"Demons respond to strength and dominance. If you can defend yourself against a physical assault, they acknowledge you. If you can take several beatings and walk away damaged but alive, they begin to respect you." Malfoy paused, "If you manage to defeat them… You'll have given birth to a reputation which might benefit or further endanger you, depending on how other demons react to you."

Urameshi's smirk grew more knowing with every word of Malfoy's explanation, and it was interesting to watch the reaction of his two friends. The silver-haired Kurama was studying Malfoy with a new, calculative look, and the garnet-eyed Hiei no longer looked bored with the entire ordeal.

"To summarize," Malfoy quietly concluded, "one's best defense is oneself."

Urameshi nodded, "And there you have it."

The class was abuzz with shock and confusion, and Ron Weasley took a step forward. "Hang on. Is that what we're going to be learning? How to drop a bloke in some kind of… Muggle duel?"

"Not all of you," the tattooed professor warned. "Next week, I plan to test each of you in private. We'll see who has the potential to take this experiment to the next level."

~o~

Harry waited for Malfoy again after class. The blond met his gaze in a brief moment's silence, and then they were walking along the corridor toward an unspoken destination. Leaving the castle behind them, they crossed the courtyard and the grounds until they reached the Black Lake. They dropped their bags to the grass and sat down, their backs leaning against the side of Dumbledore's marble tomb, placing it between them and the castle. They had sat here several times over the past weeks, for it was the one place where they could talk freely without the rest of the student populace listening in.

Malfoy broke a blade of grass and sat back, rolling it between his fingers. Beside him, Harry drew up a leg toward his chest and rested his arm atop his knee. They sat in companionable silence, watching the waters of the lake ripple as a soft breeze disturbed its surface.

A glint of silver eventually caught Malfoy's attention, and he glanced down, quirking a pale eyebrow upon finding the signet ring embracing Harry's finger. "So you're the Head of family Black, now, are you?"

Harry did not immediately reply, though his right hand fisted around the ring on his finger as though to protect it. "Took you long enough to spot that…"

Malfoy sat quietly, waiting.

"I know the Malfoys are related to the Blacks through your aunt," Harry revealed. "If things had been different, I think _you_ might've been the one to inherit this ring. But Sirius Black was my godfather. His mother never favored him with the ring, but it was rightfully his. That's the only reason I wear it now, because I believe he would've wanted me to."

After another moment, the blond Slytherin confessed, "I never met the man, myself. I know everything my aunt said about him can't have been true, if someone like you can stand up for him. I think you're right, Potter. I can't see anyone else he might've wanted that ring to go to."

Harry gave a slight nod, his hand relaxing again at his side. They reclaimed their companionable silence so easily, that Malfoy almost flinched when it was broken again, this time by Harry.

"Ginny Weasley's sick."

Malfoy's slate-grey eyes cut to his left, where Harry sat staring straight ahead as though he had not spoken. He flicked the blade of grass aside, reaching down beside his leg to pluck another. "She your girl?"

"She used to be. I broke it off, after sixth year. I didn't want to risk any Death Eaters hurting her to try to force me out of hiding." Harry sighed, "Ron told me her grief over their brother Fred's death had even sent her to St. Mungo's for a while."

Malfoy felt a twinge of something dark pass through the center of his chest, and he looked down at the grass between his fingers. "I'm sorry, Potter. You must be worried. Have you written her yet?"

Harry shook his head. "I wouldn't know what to say. I don't… I don't like to think of her that way…"

They elapsed into a solemn silence this time; one staring off toward the lake, the other discarding the second blade of grass for a third. It was a few minutes before Malfoy glanced again at the dark-haired Gryffindor. "Mind if I ask you something?"

Harry turned his head, dark green eyes searching. Slowly, he nodded in consent.

"I know you had another something up your sleeve in Urameshi's class. Why did you quit?"

Sighing, he turned his eyes again to the lake. "What's it matter? You heard what he said; it wouldn't have worked, anyway."

"Potter," Malfoy softly insisted. "I know you were ready to try it. And I could tell after the way you looked at me that I was the reason you changed your mind, though I can't begin to guess why. So you can't blame me for wondering."

"I guess not." For a long minute Harry hesitated, but then he gave another sigh. "The _Kharassein_ Curse. I didn't think you'd like to hear it a second time…"

The blond looked at him in open confusion. "I've heard it before? I don't even recognize the name."

"I never took the time to introduce it to you before nearly killing you with it."

Malfoy sat a moment, thinking. Throughout their years of mutual loathing and contempt, they had thrown countless jinxes and hexes at each other. Looking back, and keeping honest with himself, it was difficult now for Malfoy to remember them all. He shook his head, "It can't have been that bad."

"It should have been listed among the Unforgivable Curses." Harry slowly stood, slipping his wand free of its arm-holster. And, just as Malfoy discovered a terrible black light in those dark green eyes, he pointed the tip of his wand toward his own chest and hissed quite clearly: "_Sectumsempra_!"

~o~

His knees buckled, and Malfoy reacted instinctively, rising up to his own knees to catch his ex-rival in his arms as Harry's legs gave out from under him. He lowered the Gryffindor to the grass, his next breath stalling in his lungs as he discovered a dark red stain expanding over the front of the other's shirt. With both hands he ripped open the shirt. Malfoy's lungs were cold lead weights behind his ribs when he saw how fast the blood was gushing from an openly large gape in Harry's chest.

Panicking, Malfoy threw the ruined shirt over the wound and pressed both hands atop it in a vain attempt to stanch the bleeding. "Potter. Potter!" The blood was already soaking through the shirt like it was nothing, its ominous touch like ice beneath his palms. He gave the other a careful but firm shake, "_Harry!_ Harry, breathe! Open your eyes, damn it, and _breathe_!"

A loud screech came from overhead, and Malfoy looked up as a golden-feathered bird landed upon the grass near Harry's shoulder. Even through his panic, the blond Slytherin could not help but feel a jolt of recognition. "Y-you were on the train with him…"

The bird cocked its head, as though studying him. But then it took flight once more as a cool shadow fell over Malfoy, and the blond titled his head further back to find eyes the color of black coal staring down at the blood covering his hands.

"Help him," Malfoy begged of this one, and those eyes flicked up to meet his gaze. "You saved me. Help him like you helped me!"

"I can't," a light tenor voice lamented, laced with remorse and the gruffness of restraint.

Another loud screech drew upon their attention, and both looked up to see the golden bird circling high above their heads.

"Is that his?"

"Yeah," Malfoy replied, numbly.

The bird circled once more over their heads, and then flew away, in the direction of the castle. The cool shadow left Malfoy as its owner shot off after the bird, following after it as though knowing it could find the answer for them.

Malfoy clenched his jaw, watching them go, and he lowered his head in time to witness as a dark red stream dripped from between Harry's lips.

~o~

"…But he's okay, right?"

"He does seem to be recovering, yes." The silver-haired Kurama sighed, "But he needs you, Yusuke, I don't pretend to deny that. He hides it well; even his underlings have yet to notice how broken he is without you-"

"-But he can't hide it from me," the fiery-eyed Hiei hissed.

Urameshi swore under his breath, falling back against the wall. At his sides, his hands fisted so tightly that his claws were cutting into the flesh of his palms. "Is he still…?"

Both demons nodded wordlessly. "But he is past the worst of it," Kurama softly assured. "His strength is returning, both physical and spiritual, and he no longer sinks into such introspective depression. For the most part, he appears only to want to reclaim the comfort of your presence."

"Which I can't give him…" Swearing again, he turned his head, gazing desolately out a window. "I hate this," he muttered after a long minute.

Kurama shared a glance with Hiei, though neither commented, recognizing the pain in their friend's posture.

"Hey," Urameshi suddenly broke the silence, backing quickly away from the window.

The three stared as a sparrow hawk with golden feathers flew in, screeching loudly and circling over their heads.

It was not alone. A human hand lifted up and grasped the bottom of the window, but what it pulled up after it was a far cry from human. But neither was it demon, Urameshi and his companions suspected as they warily watched the new creature crouch within the window's slim frame. It was tall and lanky, but with a lion's grace as it crouched there, the late afternoon sunlight reflecting like tiny shimmering rubies against its alabaster pale skin. Short but wild honey blond hair fell over coal black eyes.

Those strange eyes swept over the three demons, and then flicked up to catch the bird still circling and screeching over their heads. Suddenly the room filled with a sense of desperate urgency. "Come with me," the creature entreated, a thread of that same anxiety lacing its light tenor voice. "Please."

"Where?" Kurama wondered, barely resisting the compulsion to step forward. "And who are you?"

"A friend of Draco Malfoy's."

The three demons exchanged a glance, but it was Urameshi who finally nodded, moving forward. The creature noted his acquiescence gratefully, twisting around and throwing himself out of the window. Swearing, Urameshi leapt through the window as well, the other two demons following swiftly after.

**Please Note:** I strongly disapprove of suicide, in any way, shape, or form. But, um… for drama's sake, I _did_ need him to attempt something drastic, so… yeah. Forgive me.


	6. Like a Flash

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Six - Like a Flash**

Kurama absently blew a strand of silver out of the way of his eyes, tying off the last of the bandages and securing the knot beneath his patient's back. Taking up the extra bandages and a few shreds of herbs he had used to quicken the healing, he backed away from the hospital bed and turned to a water basin to wash his hands.

Urameshi nodded solemnly at his friend's handiwork, then motioned to Hiei. The Headmistress's orders for complete privacy would only hold a few more minutes' sway, and he did not want that woman Pomfrey barging in again and interrupting before they had gotten the answers they needed. The garnet-eyed demon stepped close, hovering both hands near either side of the unconscious human's head.

"What is he doing?"

Urameshi glanced over his shoulder. His sharp eyes could pick out a head of white-blond hair in the shadows, where Draco Malfoy stood in the far corner of the room. Standing beside him, hand resting comfortingly atop his shoulder, was the creature that had called for their assistance, alabaster skin no longer shimmering but somehow still illuminated against the shadows of the room.

"We want to know what put the idea into the kid's head in the first place," Urameshi revealed. "Hiei has the ability to show us."

The creature's coal black eyes sharpened; "He can read minds?"

His own eyes narrowed, as he cautiously admitted, "And then some."

"Yusuke," said koorime murmured a moment later, eyes closed, third eye glowing beneath its ward. "You might want to see this for yourself…"

The tattooed demon turned back, carefully placing his hand upon his friend's shoulder from behind, closing his eyes. Hiei let his energy spread to encompass the both of them, and soon images spilled into Urameshi's mind. A torrid profanity slipped from between his lips as he was made to absorb them all at once, and he knew increasing surprise as they reached toward the last. He felt a curious hand rest atop his own and identified the energy pooling in with theirs as Kurama's. Three minds now witnessed the dark and painful memories of a fourth, and it was not long before Urameshi ceased wondering what had led to the kid's current state.

~o~

Malfoy watched the three demons tense as they hovered together over Potter's still form, and he wondered which unpleasant thought they had stumbled across in Potter's mind. But then Urameshi was suddenly reaching behind himself with his other hand, as though he had heard Malfoy's curiosity and was inviting him to see for himself. Feeling the hand atop his shoulder slip away, he turned his head.

Endlessly dark eyes smiled sadly down at him, even as the cool touch of the creature's shadow backed further amongst the shadows of the corner. "Go," he whispered.

Malfoy knew a moment's uncertainty, to which the golden creature responded by setting his senses awash in a wave of calm. Swallowing, he stepped forward, hesitating another moment before wrapping his fingers around Urameshi's outstretched wrist. He then gave a loud gasp as his mind was flooded with memories, and for the very first time he saw the events of Harry Potter's life through the eyes of the one that had lived it. And he could not halt the burning tears that escaped his own eyes as he felt the echo of Potter's pain, even while the golden creature strived to wash it away with another flood of comfort.

_Hiei_, Urameshi whispered, and Malfoy was distracted enough from the profound agony spilling into his mind to wonder that the name was not spoken aloud. _Can you take it back?_**(3)**

_No_, the other growled, the faintest touch of regret spilling into that confession. _There are too many memories, too tightly woven together… Each one cutting too deeply into his heart. To suddenly be rid of it would sooner drive him mad than heal him._

Malfoy abruptly tightened his grip around Urameshi's wrist, stepping closer when the tattooed professor turned his head to acknowledge him. And, never second-guessing how he knew to do so, he invited himself into their conversation. _The pain, then. Can't you leave him the memories, and just… smother the pain?_

Another wave of calm and comfort washed over him, but Malfoy was not asking for himself, and he knew that the shadow's powers could not give him the permanent answer he was looking for now.

Urameshi and the silver-haired Kurama both gave him long, considering looks that might have made him uncomfortable if the golden creature was not working so constantly to keep him calm. After another minute, Kurama turned his pirate-gold eyes upon their smaller-built companion. _Hiei?_

_I can_, the other demon agreed, the faint purple glow behind his head cloth burning brighter.

~o~

The golden creature was intercepted before he could return to the Forest. The three demons from whom he had begged assistance stood waiting for him, blocking his immediate path. Though he could simply leap over them and bound from one tree to another to escape, he knew that such a move would only make things more difficult for Draco. His young companion would need their trust soon. Better to alleviate their suspicions now, so that that trust would be more willingly given later.

"Who are you?" The tattooed one demanded as he calmly approached, and beside him the smaller, darker one hissed, "_What_ are you?"

He tasted the emotional climate emitting off of them for a moment, assuring himself that they were not contemplating an attack before softly replying, "My name is Jasper Hale. You've already guessed that I'm not human…"

The feeling of superior redundancy filtered through the air, and he tracked it back to the tattooed one, who looked as though he might really want to roll his eyes. Jasper could almost hear the word '_Duh_' as though it had been spoken aloud.

"What connections do you have with Draco Malfoy?" The silver one asked this time.

Before he could answer, however, Jasper felt another's presence brush impatiently against his mind, and a second later the garnet-eyed one hissed sharply through his teeth. Stark disbelief emanated from this darker one's aura, and Jasper offered a small, apologetic smile, hiding nothing.

"Hiei," the silver one asked of his companion, while the tattooed one stared in confusion. "What is it?"

"Him," their friend hissed, holding a hand to his brow as though suffering a bit of backlash. "Hale…"

"What about him," the tattooed one wondered, eyes cutting to where Jasper was still standing, unobtrusively as anything.

"I'm very sorry," he softly replied, with every sincerity. "For what it's worth, I would have let you in, if you had simply asked."

The tattooed demon and the silvered one stared quite openly at him, now. "You blocked his Jagan?" The silver one asked, incredulous, as though such a feat was not possible.

"I'm sorry," he offered again. They had their answer.

"How?" The tattooed one demanded.

He gave a very slight smile. "I have a… _unique_ sister**(4)**." Turning his gaze once more to the garnet-eyed one, Jasper invited, "If you wish to try again…?"

"You won't keep me out this time?" The demon growled.

"I think if you were to see for yourself exactly what I am, it might be easier for you to accept than if I were simply to tell you."

The other remained frozen for another moment, but then he reached up and tugged the white cloth from around his brow. Jasper arched a slim eyebrow, only mildly surprised to discover that the source of this one's telepathy was a very literal third eye in the center of his forehead. Feeling a stronger brush against his mind, Jasper lowered his defenses and allowed the demon entrance.

A long moment passed before the demon's touch fled his mind, and garnet red eyes widened as they stared at Jasper in renewed disbelief. Jasper's mouth quirked.

"So?" The tattooed one pressed, impatience beginning fill the atmosphere around him. "What _is_ he?"

Shaking his head as though to clear it, the smaller demon dropped his brow between his hands and tied the white cloth over it once again. Then the head lifted up again, and garnet red eyes met those of black coal. "Vampire."

The other two drew in sharp breaths, both turning to stare at Jasper as well, but with the fierce and wild caution of a beast backed into a corner.

Jasper gave a sad smile. "You understand now why I choose to hide myself in the forest. I can feed on the animals there without endangering the humans staying in the castle."

"And… Draco?" The silvered one wondered.

"Before I was Jasper Hale, the vampire," he confessed, "I was Jasper Whitlock, the human. And, as a human, I'd come from a rather large and extended family." He sighed, "Draco Malfoy is my nephew, some generations removed."

"Does McGonagall know about this?" The tattooed one hissed.

He shook his head. "She knows nothing of my connection with Draco, because she knows nothing of _me_. I followed Draco here in secret, and have been hiding myself in this forest to keep from being discovered."

"Then, if it weren't for Harry…" The silvered one trailed off.

"No," Jasper shook his head again. "I'd actually been contemplating introducing myself to you three within the next week or so, anyway."

"Yeah?" The tattooed one smirked. "Why?"

He gave them each a long, meaningful look. "You all suspect what Draco is becoming. You've felt it."

The three demons exchanged a glance, and the silvered one stepped forward. "It would appear we have much to discuss."

"Yes, but I'd appreciate it if you'd permit me to hunt, first. I need to expel the sights and smells of the past hour," Jasper gruffly explained, "before I exhaust my restraint and do something I'll regret for the rest of my existence. And coming from a vampire, you can trust that to be a very long time."

~o~

Harry blinked his eyes open, but then squeezed them shut again with a soft groan as the bright ceiling lights only served to give birth to a pounding headache. Wanting to block it out, he tried to lift an arm over his eyes, but paused upon feeling a protesting tug around his chest at the slight movement. Opening his eyes once more, he ignored the glare of the ceiling lights and stared down at himself, finding his entire torso wrapped tightly in bandages.

"Try not to pull it open."

He lifted his gaze and turned his head. Draco Malfoy was sitting in a chair beside his bed, a very solemn shadow darkening his slate-grey eyes. Harry could not decide which was more surprising - Malfoy's presence, or that the golden bird Esmiril was perched on the arm of his chair, even allowing the blond to stroke his feathers.

If he had not been here at last once every year, it might have taken longer for Harry to realize he had been taken to the hospital wing. He studied Malfoy's face, finding something different in the other's somber expression that had not been there before. Thinking he knew the reason for it, he lowered his gaze and muttered, "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be."

He looked sharply up once more, not sure he had heard correctly. But Malfoy's eyes remained steady. "You're depressed. You're in pain, and it only seems to grow whenever someone deems your smallest accomplishment as another golden chapter in the history books." He paused, taking a breath. "You feel trapped, Harry. You want to live on your own terms, not by their endless expectations. But down by the lake… it must've crept into your mind that there was no other escape."

Harry stared, wondering how his ex-rival seemed suddenly to be the one to know him best. "I don't think even Ron or Hermione could've guessed all that…"

"Yes, well, speaking of which." And now a hint of annoyance seeped into his voice, "Those two are willing to owl the Ministry with a request to send me to Azkaban."

"What?"

"Think. You're in the hospital wing, and with a great gaping scar on your chest, I might add. And I was the only other person there when it happened."

Harry moved his arms back, but Malfoy quickly stalled him with a hand to his shoulder before he could attempt to sit up. "I asked you not to pull it open, Harry."

"But you can't be serious," he protested, settling back against his pillows once more. "They think _you_ did this to me?"

"Is that really so difficult to believe? I gave all three of you years of hell, after all." Malfoy shrugged, "I'm content to accept that, to them, I'll always be the prime suspect."

He shook his head, "I'll talk to them. Get them to leave you alone."

"Let them be, Harry. I've no inclination to upset their efforts to return certain things to normal."

His next words died on his tongue at that last part, and Harry found himself quietly staring. It seemed that, at every turn, Malfoy was determined to reveal something more about himself that voided the version Harry had _thought_ he'd known for so long. But then something else abruptly dawned on him: "That's the third time you called me by my name…"

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a problem? I can just as easily go back to calling you 'Potter,' if you're starting to miss it so much."

Harry would have laughed, if the bandages and the pain in his chest didn't force him to rethink that impulse. "I think I can live without it."

"Glad to hear it." But Malfoy's hesitant smirk faded, and he lowered his gaze to the bird perched on the arm of his chair. "I'd hate to think you couldn't…"

He fell silent, unable to find anything to say to that. Then his eyes fell to Esmiril, whom Malfoy was still absently stroking, and he could not help a small smile. "I have to wonder," he slowly remarked, causing Malfoy to look up once more. He nodded to the sparrow hawk, "He has an over-inflated sense of pride when it comes to trusting people. I'm surprised my little merlin hasn't tried to take off your finger."

Malfoy's mouth quirked, bemused. "Little merlin?"

"His nickname," Harry shrugged. "His real name is Esmiril."

"So you name him after the most legendary of our race?" Malfoy looked again to the bird, his expression turning thoughtful. After a long moment, the blond nodded. "He helped me to find help for you. I sent him looking for Madame Pomfrey, but he came back with Urameshi and his demon friends. I almost questioned that, until I saw how fast they healed you. So perhaps he _has_ inherited a bit of his namesake's wisdom…"

So it was that Esmiril made a new friend. But, watching the comfortable scene before him, Harry smiled, unable to resist wondering whether it was not the other way around.

~o~

It had been hours since Jasper had left to hunt, but he found the three demons still waiting for him when he returned. They'd moved within the forest, out of sight of the castle, and had found a clearing where they could talk freely. The three seemed to have memorized the feel of his presence, turning without surprise when Jasper dropped down from the trees.

But then the silvered one blinked, and he could feel the demons' curiosity as all three stared at the new golden hue of his eyes. Jasper explained without needing to be asked. "They say the eyes cannot lie. It's perhaps especially true for vampires, as they are a dead giveaway to how… _thirsty_… we are. Intense bouts of temper will also cause them to darken."

"For your eyes to have been so black," the silvered one mused, cautiously, as though afraid Jasper would find offense in his observation. "I can only barely perceive the struggle you endured. And I don't imagine being closed up with Harry in his condition while I worked on him made it any easier for you."

Jasper accepted the unspoken apology with an easy smile. "Draco needed me. I concentrated on that. Though," he solemnly added, "I won't hide that it was still like balancing precariously upon the edge of a knife, with the floor on the other side of that knife already stained with the blood I was denying myself. My self-restraint isn't precisely as strong as I would prefer it to be."

The tattooed one suddenly smirked. "Considering the alternative, I'll take precarious any day."

Jasper's return look was hard as stone. "But that's exactly my trouble. There is a darker corner of my mind which still leans toward that alternative."

The other's smirk vanished instantly.

"I've seen into your mind," the smaller one suddenly spoke up in reminder. "Your control is a great deal stronger than you credit. It's the doubt you still have in yourself which holds you back."

"Myself, I prefer the doubt." Jasper shrugged, tilting his head back to gaze high up toward the skies. "I'd rather that, than the loathing I would feel for myself if I were to give in." After a very long minute, he lowered his gaze again to the three demons. "But we're here to discuss Draco. I know you are likely a few pages ahead of me in what is happening to him, but I also realize you must still have a number of questions. Perhaps… an exchange? Shall we together discover how much we know?"

The tattooed one's smirk returned like a flash.


	7. Sleeping Within My Blood

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Seven - Sleeping Within My Blood**

"You're _defending_ him? _Malfoy?_"

"Yes," Harry insisted, stroking Esmiril's feathers, the bird standing quite calmly upon his upraised knee.

Ron Weasley exchanged a stunned glance with Hermione Granger, who seemed no less surprised but did appear to be making an effort to understand. "Harry," she reasoned, "perhaps your mind is still a bit muddled after yesterday's attack-"

"_Don't_ call it that," he quietly interrupted, green eyes gone steely. The soft-spoken command startled her into silence, and they both stared at him. Esmiril crooned plaintively - during his outburst Harry had stopped stroking the bird's feathers, his hand just hovering there. The bird nipped at Harry's fingers, but Harry ignored it for the moment. He looked both of his best friends in the eye, one after the other. "Listen to me. I've had to evade or survive attacks every year since finding out I was a wizard. Now the source of all that trouble is gone. Over the summer I had to relearn how to live a life that didn't involve constantly looking over my shoulder. I'm trying to _start over_."

When his friends suddenly looked uncomfortably guilty, he knew he'd gotten his point across. "I don't want it going around that I was attacked - you _know_ how something like that could be blown out of proportion. And I especially don't want it spread that Malfoy had been the one to try it. What happened yesterday was an _accident_," he emphasized. "And if Malfoy hadn't been there… The least either of you could do is stop being so bloody suspicious of him and let him be. Even his own Housemates are shunning him these days; do you really want to be like that? I mean, come on, Hermione, didn't you once go on about 'magical co-existence' and cooperation between the Houses? Shouldn't that apply to everyone?"

A chagrined silence fell then, as his words sank in. Most surprisingly, it was Ron who chewed guiltily at a corner of his lip as he looked up again. "Even the Slytherins, eh?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, finally going back to stroking Esmiril's feathers, the bird crooning with great pleasure that he was again paying attention. "Almost makes me want to take their wands away and sic the Dursleys on them…"

Ron's mouth tugged in a hesitant smile, and Hermione leaned forth to give Harry's hand a squeeze.

It was another ten minutes or so before they finally left the hospital wing. Harry dropped his hand and sank back against his pillows with a heavy sigh. Esmiril nipped playfully at his fingers but did not otherwise complain, choosing instead to perch upon the railing at the foot of the bed and preen its feathers.

Hearing a soft disturbance to his left, Harry turned his head in time to watch the drapes of a nearby bed be pushed aside to reveal Draco Malfoy sitting upon its mattress. The blond dropped his arm, looking up with an inexplicable light in his grey eyes. "You didn't have to, you know. I told you I didn't mind."

"I know," Harry replied as quietly.

Malfoy stood, coming over to claim again the chair he had been sitting in the day before, which Hermione had only minutes before abandoned. Glimpsing again the burn mark embracing Malfoy's wrist as the blond rested his arm atop that of the chair, Harry knew a moment of renewed curiosity. "How'd you get that?"

The blond had no trouble discerning what he meant, even lifting his other hand to shove the sleeve of his school robes up toward his elbow so that the mark could be better revealed. "Maybe…" He mused, slowly. "Maybe the Ministry tried to convict my entire family, and I ran away…"

Harry didn't have to wonder why he could not find that so amusing. "And maybe pegasi and unicorns are the same breed of equine," he retorted.**(5)** Esmiril, hearing the sarcasm in his voice, looked up with a curious screech, hopping down and then along Harry's leg until he was again perched at the knee. And the bird mimicked Harry, turning its head until both amber eyes focused upon the blond Slytherin.

The corners of Malfoy's mouth quirked upward, if only for a second. Bracing his elbow atop the arm of the chair, he lifted his wrist up between them. "You really want to know how I got this?"

"Yeah."

Malfoy met Harry's gaze and held it. "The Ministry tried to convict my entire family," he repeated so that every syllable rang clear. "And I ran away."

Harry blinked, "What?"

Lowering his arm, he stood and crossed the room, which was empty but for them. Without pause or hesitation, he leaned out an open window, though they were quite high from the ground, and called out as softly as if he were simply calling into the next room. "Jasper."

He then turned and moved to the side of the window, mouth quirking as he deciphered Harry's puzzled look. Pointing toward the far end of the room, he whispered, "You might want to make certain Pomfrey can't hear anything."

Though still greatly confused, Harry acted immediately, taking up his wand from the bedside table and casting _Muffliato_ at the door.

The very next instant, a long and cool shadow stretched over the floor. Harry looked up… and stared as a creature too beautiful to be human pulled itself up within the frame of the window and then dropped into the room. It was tall and leonine, but with a sense of grace and power that was evident even as it stood there, perfectly still. It wore a faded pair of black slacks and a snug grey button-shirt, which clung comfortably about its lanky frame. The look seemed to suit this alabaster pale creature, whose short but wild honey blond hair fell over its eyes of glistening golden ochre.

Harry Potter blinked and shook his head, wondering if he had just set his eyes on an example of the exceedingly rare male version of the Veela.

"Harry," Malfoy spoke, his voice strangely wary. "This is Jasper Hale. My uncle."

"Pleased to meet you," the creature softly greeted, seeming perfectly content to remain where he was standing.

More than a little stunned, Harry could only give a nod of his head in answer.

"Actually," Malfoy hesitantly added, drawing Harry's focus back to him. "He's my great-great-uncle, who I didn't even know existed until the day he suddenly appeared and saved my life."

"What?" Harry wondered again, his curiosity now overflowing.

"You had just defeated the Dark Lord," he began in explanation. "There was… a two-week lapse, before that Shacklebolt fellow was able to purge the Ministry of its Death Eater spies. A handful of them stormed my parents' home. Father struggled, Mother cried… Both shouted at me to get away…" Malfoy paused, taking a breath. "And I did. I read in the paper a few days later that Shacklebolt was reforming the Ministry, ordering the release of all those wrongly captured. I was relieved to learn that meant my mother and father as well, but…"

"You decided not to risk going back?"

Something untold flashed within those slate-grey eyes, before Malfoy turned his gaze down and away. The statuesque creature, Jasper, quietly stepped behind him and set gentle hands to the younger blond's shoulders. Lifting his golden gaze to Harry, he softly said, "You don't understand. Draco is afraid the option to return home is slipping through his fingers."

"What?" Harry stared, "Why?"

"There are a handful of details he skipped over that - judging from the fact that he saw fit to introduce me to you - I believe he wants my assistance in explaining?" The last bit was spoken with a brief look at the younger blond for confirmation. Malfoy nodded. "When they came for Draco's family, two men in particular seemed especially determined to catch my nephew. These men threw magic at Draco, and cornered him in his own bedroom."

He paused, glancing down at Malfoy as though the younger blond had shifted beneath his hands. With a look of inexplicable sadness, Jasper wrapped his arms around Malfoy's shoulders now and pulled him close; Malfoy seemed to need the comforting gesture, turning the side of his face against his great-uncle's shirtfront like a small child.

Jasper looked up again, another small smile playing at his mouth as he caught Harry's stare. "I'd only gotten to his window in time to see the flash of green, and my nephew falling to the floor… I didn't hesitate to take my vengeance on their lives, and then I stole Draco away with me before their accomplices could find the bodies."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," a very familiar resonating voice cheerfully interrupted, causing both blonds and Harry to turn their heads toward the infirmary's main entrance. Esmiril flapped his wings twice, but otherwise calmly acknowledged Urameshi's sudden presence. The tattooed demon gave a fanged smirk, throwing back the hood of his cloak as he moved to stand beside the foot of Harry's bed.

Malfoy seemed instantly discomforted by Urameshi's intrusion, though not entirely surprised. Jasper merely nodded his head in greeting.

Harry looked from one to the other, frowning. "Not that I haven't been following everything up to this point, but you still haven't explained why Malfoy doesn't think he'd be welcome in his parents' home anymore."

"Why not ask him how he knows so much in my classes," Urameshi suggested, causing the blond Slytherin to look sharply up. "You'll get the same answer."

Jasper Hale cleared his throat; "Actually, _I've_ been helping him somewhat in that area. Though, of course, I admit to a rather limited knowledge of your kind, myself."

Urameshi flashed another fanged smirk. But then his dark gaze seemed to settle solely upon Malfoy, and there was suddenly an edge to his smirk that hadn't been there before. "Don't you think it's about time we talked?"

Malfoy shook his head, seeming to cringe back against his great-uncle's chest.

"Waiting won't make it easier. You know we can help."

"But, I-"

"Draco," Jasper quietly interceded, lowering his head to speak near the younger blond's ear. "You need this. I won't be able to hold it back forever."

The Slytherin winced, lifting one hand to grasp the wrist of one of the arms that still held him close. As though to assure himself he was still within their protective cage…

Harry found he didn't like seeing his ex-rival looking so vulnerable, even for an instant, and he was starting to lose his patience with this turn of the conversation. "Would it be too much to ask that someone clue me in," he snapped. He dared to give Urameshi an angry look, "_What_ doesn't Draco want to talk to you about, that you think you could help him with?"

Because his gaze was turned away, he did not catch the surprised glance the blond Slytherin threw him upon hearing his ex-rival use his first name. Urameshi caught it, however; a corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.

"Harry," Jasper spoke again, regaining the young wizard's attention. "You've seen my nephew's wrist by now, haven't you?"

Frowning, remembering how this whole discussion started, he nodded.

Whispering again into Malfoy's ear, the otherworldly creature suddenly dropped his arms from around the younger blond. Malfoy seemed to tense for a long moment, but then nodded and approached Harry's bedside. "Harry. When those Death Eaters came to arrest my mother and father, and I ran… It wasn't what you'd call a clean getaway."

"What do you mean?"

"They came after me. One of them threw the _Manicas_**(6)** jinx at me, but botched it so that one cuff was all that caught me." Malfoy's slate-grey eyes grew distant as he seemed to relive the moment in his mind. "It was iron. It burned into my skin like a rope of fire. Jasper got it off of me as soon as he could, later, but obviously it left a scar. And when they'd cornered me in my room, they hit me in the back before I could reach my wand and broomstick - the flash of green Jasper saw was from an Unforgivable. The last thing I remember before blacking out was falling to the floor."

Harry didn't ask the obvious question. Two mentions of a flash of green… He couldn't even pretend to misunderstand.

Malfoy seemed to read the expression on his face, and the blond nodded grimly. "I'd like to deny it, but that'd just be insulting your intelligence. He hit me with the Killing Curse, and I died. And even if it had somehow missed me," he added, turning his head and pushing back his tawny strands to show a nasty cut above his right ear, "I hit the corner of my desk on the way down. Pretty hard, too."

Harry's mouth went dry as he stared at _this_ scar. It was long and curved in a wide arc over the Slytherin's ear, and was so dark a red that it looked nearly black against Malfoy's pale skin and hair. Malfoy dropped his hand, and his hair fell again over the scar. "The details of what happened next are a little hazy to me, but I remember waking in a room of the Leaky Cauldron, numbed down and dizzier than you would believe. Jasper was there, too, and he told me what had happened. How he'd been almost too late, and how he'd gotten me out. But, out of all the questions I had for him, there was one he probably wished he could've avoided."

"I didn't want to lie to you," Jasper himself softly apologized, still standing at the far end of the room.

"I'm not following," Harry shook his head. "You said the Curse got you… but you're still alive. Maybe it missed…?"

But Malfoy's eyes glanced aside, "Don't make this any harder to explain than it already is, Harry. You have to accept it. The Curse _did_ hit me; I _did_ die. Something in my body - in my _blood_ - helped me to come back."

"But-"

"_I came back_," he insisted. "No one should be able to do that. Even _you_ had help when it happened for you, from your mother. New grass should be growing on my grave as we speak, and yet here I am. The question of _why_ plagued my mind, until I could convince Jasper to explain. And then there was that first day in Urameshi's class…"

Eyes widening, Harry turned his head to stare at their tattooed professor. Urameshi's smirk had long vanished, and he looked suddenly very serious. "Try to think," Malfoy encouraged Harry, regaining his attention. "Since coming back here, have you ever seen me perform even a speck of magic?"

Recalling what Urameshi had said in his last class about magic versus his own race, Harry felt a drop of liquid ice trickle down his spine. He could admit that sometimes he was slow to understand what might have been obvious to so many others, but this was just too much of a jolt to ignore. "Y-you mean… you're…?"

Draco Malfoy gave another sigh, "I didn't want to believe it at first, either. But Jasper helped me accept the truth, before Urameshi even had a chance to suspect it. The only reason I was able to come back was because my death triggered the awakening of something… very powerful, that until then had been sleeping within my blood."

3) "Take it back" - From the movie, The Green Mile. I don't quite know how to explain it… It's kind of like hitting "rewind" on someone's sins or grievances, so that they never happened. That make any sense?

4) Seems Bella has been teaching her family some new tricks.

5) Equine = horse. And they're not, by the way.

6) A jinx borrowed from Rhysenn's _Irresistible Poison_, a fanfiction like no other. Rhysenn, if you're reading this, I'm sorry for borrowing your jinx without your permission, but it fit so well into my idea for this story that I couldn't resist.


	8. The Trusting Kind

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Eight - The Trusting Kind**

"It's called an atavism," Urameshi gruffly explained. "Rather than passing on their demonic blood to their descendants, one of Draco's earliest ancestors had the ability to deliberately skip over them all until there was one who would be strong enough to accept that part of their DNA."

Harry stared, "Meaning…?"

"Meaning my parents are both human," Malfoy sighed. "So were my grandparents, my great-grandparents…"

"In all likelihood," Jasper spoke up, at last venturing a few steps closer, "_I_ would've been the next descendant to reawaken the atavism. But I'm afraid my own humanity was stolen from me before that could happen."

"Jasper's a vampire," Malfoy clarified upon catching Harry's blank look. "His human blood drained away a long time ago. And the atavism… which by all rights should've been _his_… needs human blood to activate itself."

Harry could only spare a moment to wonder exactly how much more they were going to drop on him. Wrongful arrests, use of the Killing Curse, a vampiric uncle… demon blood… Harry's world had not only been turned upside down, it was spinning off its axis. But Malfoy was now looking at him as though afraid they had finally said too much, and Harry found he did _not_ want to destroy the tenuous trust they had begun to build together.

Harry offered a small smile. "You know, for a demon, you don't look much different than before."

Malfoy's lips tugged back in a shaky smile of his own. Sitting down on the bed beside Harry's legs, he lifted one hand to the front of his school robes, parting them and undoing the first three buttons of the shirt he wore underneath. Harry almost flinched with surprise when Malfoy grabbed his hand and brought it up to his own chest. "Here," the blond whispered. "Try to feel for my heartbeat…"

Despite his great confusion, Harry was just curious enough to comply. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on what lay beneath his palm, ready at any moment to feel the pulse that would surely be there. But long seconds passed, and his eyes flew open in alarm and sought Malfoy's steady gaze as he realized that there was none to be found.

"I do _have_ a heartbeat," Malfoy softly assured as though he had read Harry mind. He released Harry's hand and refastened his shirt, adding, "Just a remarkably quiet one."

"Demon hearts don't beat in the conventional _human_ sense," Urameshi patiently quoted.**(7)** "Think of it as a pulse of energy passing through your core. Maybe ten times a day, you'll feel a flash of heat start in your chest and spread like wildfire throughout your body. Then it's gone in an instant, and you're left waiting for the next one."

This time, even Draco Malfoy was staring in surprise. "How do you know all that?"

"I _am_ a demon, you know." Urameshi's smirk widened like nothing before, "And I happen to be the only other Mazoku of our generation."

"Mazoku?" Harry wondered.

"Half-breed," Jasper translated with a kind smile. "A bit ironic, really, when considering how often Draco's parents tend to boast that they're descended from pure-blood wizardry…"

~o~

Harry had to remain in the hospital wing for the rest of the week. The endless inactivity on his part would have driven him mad, if not for the fact that rest came so much easier now that his body seemed very determined to catch up on it. He slept for hours on end, only coming to when Madam Pomfrey poked at him to eat his meals, or else when his bladder begged a reprieve. He was only ever awake for an extended amount to time in the afternoons, as that was when he was apt to receive visitors.

Ron and Hermione came as soon as classes ended, but never stayed long. Hermione would bring Harry homework from whichever classes needed it, and then sit on the foot of his bed to regale him with idle Gryffindor common room gossip. Though Harry had never cared much for groundless rumors, he reluctantly had to admit to himself that the one about Neville Longbottom studying to be an assistant to the Herbology professor after graduation was most interesting. But after about twenty minutes, Ron, looking apologetic each time, would coax Hermione to return with him to their common room. Harry never minded, of course. Ron had always been protective of Hermione, even before understanding his feelings for her, and the secret of her pregnancy probably didn't help matters much, either.

He was never given the chance to feel lonely or bored after they'd left, anyway. It usually only took ten minutes for his other visitors to check in on him. Esmiril would choose then to fly in through an open window, the golden sparrow hawk finding various places to perch and watch as Draco Malfoy, always claiming the same chair beside Harry's bed, would sit and wait in a companionable silence while Harry did his homework. Sometimes, Harry would whisper that he did not understand something in his textbook. Malfoy would look over the paragraphs he pointed to, and then softly explain it until Harry would nod and bend over his parchment once more.

When the homework was completed, Malfoy would take Harry's books and place them upon the table to the other side of the bed, and Esmiril would return to Harry's knee. What they did then varied. Sometimes Malfoy would bring news of their Defense classes, or of Hagrid, of whom he had recently pleaded forgiveness for his past behavior. Sometimes Harry would ask after Malfoy's vampiric uncle, who did not return to the castle after that last visit, seeming quite comfortable living amongst the mythical refugees of the Forest. He was eternally bemused by the subtle respect which would slip into the Slytherin's voice whenever Malfoy spoke of Jasper Hale.

But, most often, they would sit and say nothing, both gazing out the window and watching the afternoon sky darken into evening. Even Esmiril would fall strangely quiet. He would be hard-pressed to explain why, but Harry found that he felt most at ease during these times. Malfoy seemed to know better than to ask after Harry's well-being; he never looked at Harry as though wondering whether he might turn his wand upon himself a second time. Quite the contrary - Malfoy had acknowledged what had happened from the very beginning, had calmly accepted Harry's reasons for attempting it, and seemed very willing to help Harry to move forward without ever a single glance back.

~o~

Friday evening found Harry with his eyes tightly shut against the ache in both his chest and his back. His head was spinning, his face felt flushed, and he could feel perspiration beading his hairline. Malfoy was grasping both of Harry's hands, carefully pulling back, while Urameshi hefted at the back of Harry's shoulders from behind. "Come on," Malfoy was encouraging. "A little more. Just a little more."

But Harry had to stop. Falling back against Urameshi's bracing hands for support, he dropped his head back and took great gasping breaths for air. Slowly, his head ceased spinning and the feverish heat receded from his face. "Can't," he panted up to the ceiling. "Tired…"

"I know," the blond answered, hands lifting away to grasp Harry's wrists instead. "I know you're tired. I'll steal a Sleeping Draught after this, I swear it. We'll knock you out for the whole weekend. Esmiril could tap-dance on your legs, and you wouldn't feel a thing."

Harry let out a short, exhausted laugh. Lifting his head, he locked his own hands around Malfoy's wrists, and they started again. With Malfoy pulling and Urameshi bracing him, Harry was finally able to sit completely upright for the first time in days. Almost predictably, however, a wave of vertigo washed over him, and his head reeled. Yet Malfoy was there in an instant, catching Harry against his shoulder. "Easy," the blond whispered, his grey eyes watching Urameshi move off the mattress to make room for the silver-haired Kurama.

The demon fox met Malfoy's gaze, lifting a clawed hand at the ready. "Hold still, Harry," Malfoy softly spoke into the Gryffindor's ear. In response, the blond felt a pair of arms come up around his sides, and Harry's hands locked behind his back. Malfoy moved his hands to the back of Harry's shoulders, finally giving Kurama a nod.

The silver-haired demon spread his fingers and swiftly brought down his claws in one arcing swipe. Malfoy had not even time to flinch. Now Kurama's hands were carefully unwinding the severed bandages from around Harry's torso. Malfoy shifted slightly, allowing the older demon room to work yet for some reason unwilling to relinquish his hold on the dark-haired Gryffindor in his arms.

Kurama did not question this. And when the last of the bandages had been stripped away, he did not command that Malfoy move aside. Instead, he slipped his hand between the two and traced his fingers over Harry's healing chest. Malfoy looked down, watching. Whatever the silver fox had given Harry that first day, it seemed to have worked. The wound had sealed quite neatly, leaving only a pale scar that looked very raw to the touch. Apparently satisfied, Kurama pulled his hand away and lifted up a fresh roll of bandages: The wound was no longer a problem, but Harry's spine and ribs would still need the support. Urameshi stepped close to help, and together they wrapped Harry's torso.

Both moved away, and Malfoy slowly eased Harry back against the pillows. The discovery that the dark-haired Gryffindor had fallen asleep during the whole process brought a small smile to Malfoy's lips, and he reached back to unhinge the arms from around his sides.

"He should be able to stand again by morning," Kurama's husky voice whispered as the two older demons moved toward the door. "Try to get him to stay on his feet as often as possible, and I should be surprised if he isn't walking under his own strength by Monday."

Malfoy nodded distractedly, his grey eyes never leaving his ex-rival even as he heard the door swing shut to announce that they were alone once more. After several minutes, he reclaimed his chair beside the bed. Tilting his head against the chair's high backrest, he kept his gaze upon the bed, somehow afraid to let Harry out of his sight. Yet before he knew it, his eyes itched, his eyelids grew heavy… And he had fallen asleep, the echo of how a certain Gryffindor felt in his arms permeating his memory and finding its way into increasingly restless dreams.

~o~

Harry bit off a torrid profanity as his knees buckled, feeling a wave of patience wash over him to steal away his temper. Blowing his hair out of his eyes, he lifted his head and tossed a mock-glare toward his bed, where Jasper Hale sat with one knee drawn toward his chest, his golden ochre eyes a little too innocent to be convincing. He heard a strained laugh at his side, and he turned his head to find Malfoy's mouth tilted in a crooked smirk, beads of perspiration dampening his hairline and causing his tawny strands to cling to the sides of his face.

They had heeded Kurama's advice. When Harry had awakened the next morning, Malfoy had taken Harry's arm over his own shoulders and had diligently helped Harry to stand. Just as they were getting started, Jasper had invited himself in through the window to surprise Malfoy with a visit, promptly settling himself upon Harry's bed to observe them when it became obvious what they were attempting.

Now, half an hour later, they had managed twelve shuffling steps across the floor. Jasper had long since given away the secret of his strange ability to control the emotional climate around him, barring the worst of Harry's temper toward his slow progress, which only proved to annoy Harry that he was being so harmlessly manipulated, which seemed to amuse the vampire to no end. Malfoy seemed to be in an increasingly good mood with every step Harry managed - even without his great-uncle's influence - as though each one was a shared triumph. Had Harry thought for a second that Malfoy's enthusiasm was less than genuine, he would have quit at the very beginning. But the younger blond seemed sincere.

Malfoy caught his eye, his smirk widening. "Try again?"

Determinedly defiant, Harry gave a sharp nod of his head. Malfoy let out another short laugh, his hold tightening around Harry's wrist. His other hand, at Harry's waist, pulled Harry closer in to better resist imbalance. He moved his own foot a half-step forward. Harry glared down at it, and then at his own foot, which refused to heed his command and remained stubbornly in place. He silently screamed at his muscles to obey, but only his toes responded, stretching upward as though they alone could pull the rest of his foot along.

"Go on," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Move…"

"Yeah, budge along, there."

In their shock at the abrupt interruption, both Harry and Malfoy tried to turn around to see who it was. Of course, this nearly caused them to topple over each other. But then there was the swiftest flash of gold and alabaster, and they were instantly steadied. Harry looked up to find that Jasper had caught Malfoy by the shoulders, which in turn helped Malfoy to catch Harry before he could fall.

Though he was not as familiarized with the vampire, still Harry tossed Jasper a grateful glance before lifting his head to discover who had intruded this time. He gaped, "_G-George?_"

But who else could it have been - the other Weasley twin had died in battle only months ago. George Weasley, wearing casual robes, stood frozen in place some paces away, his own eyes staring.

Jasper quietly cleared his throat. "Should I…?"

"Yeah," Malfoy murmured back. "I'll come see you later."

And, with another blur of movement, the vampire had disappeared through the window.

George's stare had turned to the window in his wake, but Malfoy loudly harrumphed to regain the attention of their unexpected visitor. "Help me, then, won't you, Weasley? Wouldn't want to force Potter's exhausted brain to backtrack on everything he's asked of it already."

George seemed to shake himself. "No," he breathed, stepping closer. "S'pose not." And then he seemed to fully recover, offering a cheeky grin. "Damn, but you look bad, Harry. Been pushing it a bit, have you?"

Harry shrugged, as it was all he really had the energy to do anymore.

With the extra aid, it took only a handful of minutes to return Harry to his bed. Falling back against his pillows with a heavy sigh, he stared up at one-half of his favorite mischief duo. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't Malfoy tell you?" The tall redhead shrugged a shoulder, "I'm the other Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Still staring, Harry quickly looked to Malfoy, who had by now reclaimed his chair.

The blond offered a look of apology. "I bumped into him three days ago, but you can see how I might've been too distracted to mention it."

Harry knew himself to be said distraction, so he shrugged a shoulder and let the matter pass. But then something clicked, and he looked again to their visitor. "Ron _wondered_ how Urameshi's teaching the other classes…"

George sat down on the bed near Harry's feet. "Ickle Ronnie was on the right track, but the fact is that Urameshi _can't_ teach the other classes. McGonagall contacted me over the summer and explained everything. How the guy doesn't have any magical blood, and how the underclassmen would need _some_one to teach them, and wouldn't I be so gracious to split the position with Urameshi so that the students could benefit from the both of us?"

"What about your joke shop?" Harry asked, somewhat reluctantly. "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes…?"

Something dark passed over the redhead's face, but then it was gone and George averted his gaze. "It's the 'Salute to Fred,' now. I'd given the partnership over to Lee - Lee Jordan, you remember, he'd always wanted to join… I'm still the owner and senior partner, though, so all production ideas and major deals have to go through me for approval. But he handles the everyday routine." Sighing, he lifted his gaze and met Harry's eyes. "You think it was hard for Fred when I lost my ear? _I_ lost my mirror image, the only bloke who never missed a beat when I was up to something. I _had_ to get out of there, Harry. So when McGonagall sent that letter asking for my help, I didn't think twice."

A brief silence followed his words, as Harry tried to understand why the mention of Fred Weasley did not twist as painfully within his heart as before. Leaving it to ponder later, Harry steered the conversation back to its original subject; "So you're _teaching_ now? How're you managing a switch like that?"

A faint smile curled George's mouth. "It's not too bad. The older kids remember me; they keep asking me to relive the good ol' days. Makes being taken seriously a pain in the ass to manage, though. Even had to take a few points from my own House, and I can't tell you how much I hated _that_."

"So you've been back since the start of term? Why haven't we seen you at the staff table in the Great Hall?"

"Well, you haven't seen Urameshi sitting there, either, have you? I've been taking my meals in the staffroom. Urameshi usually eats in his office, but sometimes he joins me and we chat it up a bit." He grinned, "Does his voice always do that echoing thing?"

Harry nodded, glad for Malfoy's sake that the Weasley twin had seemed to forget entirely about Jasper.

George whistled, "And I thought it was just a parlor trick. What is he, do you reckon? I mean I've only ever seen him with his hood on, but I've had a decent enough look at those fangs, and his nails can't be anything but claws."

"He's a demon," Malfoy answered, almost defensively. "That's the main focus of his lessons, to teach us how to recognize and defend ourselves against his own kind."

George Weasley looked to Harry, who nodded again, and he let another low whistle pass between his lips. "Think he'd mind it if I sat in for one of his classes?"

Malfoy's smirk returned, and Harry laughed outright. "Urameshi might enjoy the extra attention, actually. But you should probably ask him beforehand - he's got a couple demon friends visiting his classes too, and we've already been warned that they're not exactly the trusting kind…"

7) This quote was originally spoken by Kurama, in Episode 92, The Proof. Two guesses who he was talkin' to when he said it…


	9. Not Going Anywhere

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Nine - Not Going Anywhere**

Late that night Malfoy, who had wrangled permission from McGonagall and Pomfrey to remain in the hospital wing until morning, came awake to the sound of a voice he knew very well. Opening his eyes, he lifted his head from the backrest of his chair to gaze at the bed beside him, and its occupant slumbering fitfully beneath its covers.

Harry thumped his head against his pillows and rolled it to the side, a thin frown line appearing between his eyebrows as he shifted restlessly in his sleep. His lips moved silently, the expression on his face convincing Malfoy that Harry must have been pleading for something horrible to end. And then Malfoy heard it again, that one word spoken in such a tormented and grieving tone that it alone was what had gently jarred him awake in the first place.

And this time Malfoy watched, his silent heart squeezing painfully within his chest, as the hint of shimmering tears pooled beneath those tightly shut eyes.

"Draco…"

It was that quiet, simple plea that spurred Malfoy more than anything else. He left his chair, carefully sitting down beside Harry on the bed, and it was only with the barest hesitation that he reached his hand and lightly nudged Harry's shoulder. Rather than coming awake, however, the dark-haired Gryffindor gave a startled yelp and began pleading in earnest, the tears now sliding down the sides of his face. The sight tore at Malfoy and, never questioning the instinct, he leaned forward and lowered his head, tilting his brow until it rested against Harry's. With a slow breath, he closed his eyes…

~o~

_A blurred corridor swam into view, bringing with it the distant sound of someone screaming in fright. And as the vision of the corridor became clearer, so did the screaming, so that just when Malfoy was able to discern an open doorway he could also plainly make out the words echoing from behind it._

"_MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!"_

_The words shocked through him. The door flew wide, and something tugged at him, so that suddenly he was standing in the middle of a public bathroom floor. A cold feel of alarm washed over him as Malfoy stared down at the sight before him._

_An echo of himself lay upon the floor, shaking uncontrollably, blood pouring from a large gash in his chest and pooling on the floor beneath him. And there was Harry, on his knees beside Malfoy's bleeding doppelganger, dark green eyes widened in horror, mouth muttering words under his breath: "No- I didn't-"_

_Malfoy tossed a look over his shoulder toward the open door, wondering why the ghostly screams that had dragged him there failed to bring anyone else to the rescue._

"_MURDER! MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!"_

"_I didn't- I-"_

_Malfoy turned around once more, stepping over the horrific image of his dying self, and came to his own knees before the traumatized Gryffindor. "Harry?" He whispered. Receiving no response, he placed his hands upon the other's shoulders. "Harry, come out of it. Look at me, Harry."_

"_MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER! MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!"_

"_I-I couldn't-"_

"_Harry, that isn't me!" Malfoy gently shook his ex-rival, himself striving to fight the sense of dread and panic permeating the room like thick and unpalatable smog. It was pressing in, threatening his defenses, and he knew they could not remain there for much longer. "This is a dream, a nightmare! A memory, not even worth your time!" He shook Harry again, "And it's a lie! Snape came, remember? He healed me; he tried to get you to tell him how you learned that curse, and then gave you weeks' worth of detentions when you wouldn't do it! Look at me, Harry! __**Harry!**__"_

_At last, his words seemed to have gotten through. Those dark green eyes blinked once, twice. They finally focused upon the blond gripping him by the shoulders, and then they glistened anew._

"_D-Draco…?"_

_Relief flooded through Malfoy like nothing he had ever known, and he gently pulled the other close. "Hold tight to me, Harry," he whispered. "I'm getting you out of here…"_

~o~

Resurfacing into the world of reality required just a little more effort. But, as before, long-buried instincts seemed to have woken which guided Malfoy back into his own mind and helped him to do the same for Harry. Drawing in a slow breath for air, he lifted his forehead away from Harry's and sat up, his mouth quirking in a careful smile when those dark green eyes blinked open and focused upon him a half-second later. "There you are. Feeling better?"

With a hissed profanity, Harry pushed away from his pillow and collided into Malfoy's chest. Malfoy willingly accepted him, arms circling around his ex-rival and holding him close. "Easy," he whispered. "Easy, Harry…"

"I want it gone," the other breathed near his ear, forehead burying into the cove of his shoulder. "Please. Make me forget."

A thick lump lodged itself in his throat, and he held Harry closer. "I don't quite know how," he choked. "But… I think I know who does."

He bit his lip, his resolve strengthening as he felt something wet and hot trickle into his shirt's collar. Taking a slow, deep breath, he closed his eyes. Barely any time at all had passed before the dark quiet of the night was gently disturbed by the sense of footsteps approaching almost soundlessly from across the room. Malfoy opened his eyes and looked up, watching the shadow draw nearer until it had reached the bed. And a pair of fiery red eyes regarded him in silence.

Malfoy returned that steady look, opening his mind to the other demon without even trying. _Help him. I'll do anything._

Hiei's gaze flicked to the dark-haired youth trembling in Malfoy's arms, and his stone-like expression softened into one of reluctant concern. _What you're asking could destroy him_, he sighed. _I've already explained this._

_Then you lied_, Malfoy brazenly accused. _Or else what good is your power? You saw into his memories, before; now they're haunting his dreams._

_How did he come out of it?_

The blond paused, caught off-guard by the sudden question. _Err… I…_

_You?_ The dark demon took a step closer, seeming unable to help his own curiosity. Reaching up, he hooked the first finger of his hand behind the cloth tied across his brow and pulled it loose, revealing a third eye which blazed amethyst in color as it blinked open. Malfoy froze, feeling as though that third eye was staring through his skin to whatever was hidden underneath.

After the briefest moment, Hiei's mouth tugged in a knowing smirk. _Impressive…_

Malfoy blinked, _What?_

The darker demon chose not to clarify, instead lightly grasping the blond's wrist. "Close your eyes," he quietly instructed aloud. "Concentrate with me."

In Malfoy's arms, Harry suddenly ceased trembling and grew still.

"Do not interrupt," Hiei requested of the Gryffindor. "Your friend has asked for my assistance to drive away your pain. I cannot promise our success if we are distracted."

After a long moment, Harry moved his head in a tiny nod. "Please."

The fiery-eyed demon looked up and held Malfoy's worried gaze. "Concentrate with me," he reminded. "Follow those same instincts that guided you the last time. Never question their threads, but weave them together to reach your goal."

The blond nodded, closing his eyes. He sensed a foreign energy waiting in the forefront of his mind, and he knew it immediately to be Hiei's. The other demon's presence was like smoke in water, exploring but not invading, and then at last he offered forth a strand of energy that shone white-silver in the cold darkness. Hesitantly, Malfoy took it into his own hand, and in return found himself filled with the strangest sense of relief - as though by claiming that one thread of silver he suddenly and for the first time felt a little closer to whole.

_Where does it lead?_ He wondered.

The darker demon surprised him with a soft chuckle, and Malfoy glanced up to find that Hiei was watching him with fiery amethyst eyes that shone with all the piercing clairvoyance of a dragon's. _When it finally decides to awaken_, Hiei suggested, _anywhere you wish. But for now, let's borrow what small trickle it's offering to help the boy._

A trickle… This brilliantly glowing thing, a _trickle_? Shaking his head in wonder, Malfoy took a deep breath and concentrated as Hiei had instructed. It were Harry's painful memories that were staining his dreams. Perhaps… if the chain was not so tightly linked…

_Yes_, Hiei approved. _But carefully._

Nodding, the blond tightened his grasp around the silvery thread and began to tug. Its power - however "trickling" Hiei claimed it to be - tingled within his palm as though he had caught a tiny flickering flame. In his mind, he fisted his fingers around that burning thread and refused to let go. One by one, he plucked at the chain of Harry's memories, pulling cautiously at each link until he could sense that he had loosened their solid hold on each other.

_Good_, Hiei eventually praised. He took ahold of Malfoy's hand and pried the blond's fingers from around the thread of silver. Its luminosity was not so brilliant now. Hiei gently shook Malfoy's wrist, and the thread fell away, fading again to the back of his mind. _Now come away from there_, he patiently urged as though reprimanding a child,_ and open your eyes._

Malfoy drew in a deep breath, blinking his eyes open to stare worriedly at the darker demon. "Did it work?"

Hiei nodded, the barest smirk lighting his fiery red eyes. "They'll come apart more naturally, now that they're not so tightly woven." He at last released the blond's wrist, instead briefly touching the back of Harry's head. "Your pain will not torment you much longer," he assured the dark-haired Gryffindor. "Your friend's instincts were very thorough."

Harry slowly looked up, drawing in a quiet breath upon glimpsing Hiei's third eye for the first time. Tentatively, he answered, "T-thank you."

The demon smirked again, replacing his head cloth across his brow as he turned away. He soundlessly crossed the room, his silhouette blending into the darker shadows of a corner, and soon it became mysteriously obvious that he had somehow gone.

But then another shadow played across the floor, and Malfoy looked up to find his great-uncle crouched within an open window. Eyes of golden ochre glinted under the moonlight, a quiet question in their steady gaze. Malfoy silently nodded that he was all right, and then felt a cool brush of familial fondness sweep over him seconds before the vampire dropped silently from the window and out of sight.

Fighting a smile, Malfoy turned back to Harry. "If I did it right, you shouldn't have to worry about more nightmares tonight. Go on, then." He made to stand, intending to return to his chair, but a quick hand caught the hem of his sleeve, stalling him. He looked back.

Harry hung his head, seemingly embarrassed. When he spoke, his voice had gone so quiet that Malfoy nearly had to strain to hear. "Stay…"

And still Malfoy almost believed he had heard wrong. "What?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Harry softly insisted, still not meeting the blond's gaze. "But you got me out of it the first time, and I thought… maybe… if they did come back…"

Malfoy stared down at him for a long minute, unable to believe how suddenly vulnerable the savior of the Wizarding world looked at that very instant. The bandages over his torso, the trembling, the tears - none of those had made Harry seem so… precariously _human_, as he looked right now. Abruptly coming to a decision, Malfoy wordlessly tugged his sleeve free and circled around the bed. He pushed the blankets aside, so that he would not trap them under him, and then stretched out upon the mattress, slowly closing in until he was carefully spooning Harry from behind. He felt Harry's chest move with a relieved sigh, and he could not help a small smile of his own.

"Draco…?"

"Yeah?"

The dark-haired youth shifted, discreetly edging his back closer to the blond. Malfoy let him, understanding completely. Even if it had been unintentional, pain and shared memories had founded for them a common ground. Malfoy was discovering a sense of kinship of a different kind to that he shared with his vampiric uncle, and which he doubted could be duplicated anywhere else in the world. Himself shifting closer, he rested a hand atop the other's shoulder and gently urged him closer. "What is it, Harry?"

"No," the Gryffindor shook his head. "Never mind."

But Malfoy waited. He knew his ex-rival well enough to guess that the other's curiosity would not be so easily dropped.

An almost inaudible sigh confirmed his assumption. "Okay," Harry muttered. "I was just wondering why you let me tackle you like that…"

"Tackle?"

"After I woke up. You helped me like… like you'd always done it." Malfoy tensed for a second, but then knew a wash of relief when Harry added, "But I don't mind it. It feels sort of… familiar. Like you really _had_ been holding me forever. I don't understand it, but… I don't think I want to give it up just yet, either."

Malfoy felt an extra pulse of warmth spread throughout his body at that roundabout confession, despite the confusion behind it, and the blond could not help the tug at his lips that cautiously widened his smile. "Sleep," he said again, snaking an arm under Harry's elbow and around his stomach. "I'm not going anywhere."


	10. I'm Trying

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Ten - I'm Trying…**

The early morning sun peered through the window, spilling its light across Harry's eyes. With a grimace, he turned his head away, shifting in search of that comforting presence that had made the rest of his night bearable. His hand found something solid and warm, covered in softness; his fingers closed around that soft layer, and he tucked himself closer. Someone gave a quiet chuckle near his ear, and he blinked his eyes open.

Even without his glasses, Harry could never mistake Draco Malfoy's slate-grey eyes and slow smirk, and he realized the Slytherin was leaning over him. "Morning," the blond greeted.

Harry returned the smile, still lingering in that pleasant limbo between sleep and awake. "You stayed…"

"I would have gone back to the chair," Malfoy answered as softly, passing Harry his glasses so that the dark-haired youth could see properly. "But I didn't want you to wake up thinking I'd abandoned you. Besides," he added with another smirk. "You've got a pretty tight hold on my shirt, and I'd prefer not to tear it."

Glancing down at his hand, Harry felt his face grow warm to discover that his fingers were indeed fisting the other's shirtfront. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers, feeling its softness play against his skin, but finally he released the shirt and moved his hand away.

He looked up again, and Malfoy gave a soft smile, hinting that he had not minded. "Did you sleep well?"

"I think so," Harry replied honestly. "I don't remember that I dreamed anything else, but maybe I should take that as a good sign. You?"

"Better than I had in months," Malfoy responded so fervently, it seemed blasphemy to believe it was anything less than truth. Then the smirk slowly fled his face, to be replaced by a look of quiet sincerity. "Thank you, Harry."

"For what?"

"For letting me sit with you on the train. For not casting me aside when you learned I'm a demon and my uncle's a vampire." He paused, his gaze searching Harry's dark green eyes. "For needing me to stay here with you last night…"

Harry's heart raced unexpectedly under the intensity of that gaze, and he flicked his tongue out to lick dry lips. "You're welcome," he whispered. "But, in the spirit of honesty… I don't think I could've trusted anyone else to do it." He passed his tongue between his lips once more, another flush of warmth filling his face and neck as he watched Malfoy's eyes flick down at the movement. "W-where do you think we should go from here?"

Malfoy swallowed, seeming suddenly to compose himself, and his eyes lifted again to meet Harry's. "We _should_ forget last night ever happened," he softly lamented. "_I_ should go back to the chair, or leave the hospital wing altogether, and _you_ should try to forget what you said about trusting me."

He paused, something in his slate-grey eyes causing them to smolder; "But I can't go back to what we _should_ do, Harry. And I don't think you can either…" Lowering his head, he carefully brushed his lips over Harry's before bringing their mouths together in a truer kiss.

Harry wondered that his first reaction was not to pull away. But Malfoy's lips felt incredibly warm and inviting against his own… Harry brought his hand up and grasped the back of the blond's head, his silent request clear. He felt the other smile against his mouth in response, and Malfoy tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Harry's fingers threaded through Malfoy's tawny strands, and the tiniest whimper escaped his throat as he felt a tongue quest against his lips. After a breath's hesitation, Harry let him in. And his head reeled as that tongue danced with his own.

Eventually, though, Harry had to break the kiss and turn his head away with a great gasp for air. He felt so dizzy, the back of his skull was tingling, and he could swear that his lips had gone numb. Malfoy let him breathe, sweeping his mouth along Harry's jaw to gently sink his teeth into the lobe of Harry's ear. And then the blond spoke, his whispering voice unbelievably husky. "Harry…"

Swallowing another gasp of air, he opened his eyes just as Malfoy lifted his head. The blond Slytherin's own eyes held a strange new light, shatteringly honest and almost pleading. His heart racing again in answer, Harry bit his lip and moved his hand, sweeping tawny strands back to reveal the dark red scar hidden beneath. Malfoy held very still as Harry lightly traced his fingertips along the scar, but the Gryffindor could tell that it must still have been annoyingly sensitive. Pushing up on his other elbow, Harry carefully brought his lips close to the scar and kissed it. Malfoy closed his eyes with a shuddering breath, and the blond tilted his head away to claim Harry's mouth again in another kiss, as thorough and pure as the first.

~o~

The next day was a Monday, and one abuzz with many stares and much murmuring. However uncomfortable such attention made him, Harry was long used to this and could ignore it with little difficulty. He knew his week's absence from classes could never have escaped notice, not in a school which thrived on magic and rumors. Yet he was relieved when it came time to join his last class for the day.

Ron and Hermione glanced back when Harry paused just within the doorway to Defense Against the Dark Arts. "You okay, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry clutched the single crutch tucked under his left arm, breathing heavily, but he looked up and gave his friends a quivering smile. Though the bandages had come off early yesterday morning, still much of his strength had not yet returned to his spine and legs. At least Kurama had been satisfied that his prediction had been proven true - Harry needed no one's help to stand upright or to navigate about the castle. The crutch simply provided something to lean on if he found himself momentarily winded or dizzy.

The students' desks had again been shoved up against the walls, baring the floor. Slowly shuffling further into the classroom, he let Hermione hold his crutch so that he could sit himself atop one of the desks. Then he took the crutch again, settling it between his knees so that he would be ready to use it again when needed. Ron set Harry's schoolbag on the desk as well, himself and Hermione standing to either side of Harry.

Ron suddenly sputtered. "B-bloody hell…!"

Harry and Hermione looked in the direction he was staring. In an extra chair placed to the side of the professor's desk sat George Weasley. The older redhead grinned, straightening to his feet and coming over. "Hey, baby brother. Surprised to see me?"

"I'm a damned sight more than surprised," Ron declared, the edges of his ears going pink, a well-known sign that his temper was rising. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Tut, tut," George calmly shook his head. "Such language in the classroom. Do I have to force myself to take points away from _you_, a member of my own family?"

That gave Ron pause. "What?"

Harry decided George had had enough fun at his brother's expense. "Ron," he softly intervened. "He's the Dark Arts professor for the underclassmen."

Laughing at Ron's renewed sputtering, George explained himself. Harry sat back and left him to it, steadfastly ignoring the stares from the rest of the class. But then he felt the intensity of one pair of eyes in particular and looked up.

Draco Malfoy was quietly watching him from across the room, and suddenly it was as though the rest of the world had grayed in stark comparison. The blond's mouth quirked in a slow smirk, and he gave a quick wink of his eye. Harry's heart jumped; he briefly smiled in return, feeling his skin grow warm beneath his school robes. Both turned their heads to the front as the secondary door slammed open.

Urameshi entered his classroom, followed by the silver-haired Kurama and the dark demon Hiei. The students all fell silent, waiting. Shedding his dark cloak, Urameshi tossed it negligently atop his desk (Harry could hear George's very soft whistle in reaction to the other professor's many tattoos and wild hair).

"As if you couldn't already tell," Urameshi spoke, his voice as always resonating with hidden power, "we have a guest. Professor Weasley teaches this class to the younger students, and he'll be sittin' in with us today. By the looks on most of your faces, I can guess that you'd met him before. I can believe that, since he doesn't look much older than the rest of you. Just behave yourselves and save your questions for later."

The students accepted this order with a scattered "Yes, Urameshi." George shook with silent laughter, crossing the floor and claiming again his chair beside the other professor's desk.

"Right," Urameshi went on. "Now, if any of you were payin' attention last week, you'll know that today's the day we see who's got what it takes to hold their own against demons."

Hermione's hand was up like a shot. "Didn't you also say that we'd each be tested individually?"

"I did," Urameshi smirked.

As though on cue, the fiery-eyed Hiei moved toward the center of the floor. Shuffling his feet just slightly apart from each other, he stretched his hands together before his torso, palms out, fingers spread. His knees were bent, his spine was straight and tense.**(8)** "This," he hissed, "is one of the baser defensive stances. It doesn't protect against much, but as you advance in skill you will come to learn that most early defenses are founded on this stance. I suggest you each take a moment to try it."

There was a general shuffling about, as the seventh years made room for themselves and tried to copy the dark demon. Kurama left Urameshi's side, coming round to wordlessly inspect each student's efforts. Some needed correcting, other were encouraged to try again. When he reached Hermione, the silver fox gently nudged her feet further apart. He stepped behind Ron, placing his hands upon the redhead's shoulders and pulling them back, urging Ron to straighten his posture. Then he came around again and looked between them.

Harry, not yet willing to force himself again to his feet, had simply duplicated the position of the arms. He sat with his back straight, his eyes meeting Kurama's gaze in silent challenge, as though daring the silver demon to ask more of him. Kurama's golden eyes gleamed with approval; he nodded his head and moved on.

The only other time he paused in his inspection was when he'd reached Malfoy. But it was only a brief pause, and the fox moved on without offering a single alteration. It seemed the blond Slytherin was the only one to have perfected the stance on the first try.

As his silver-haired companion returned to the front, Hiei released his stance, thereby giving his permission for the students to do so as well. But then he straightened his knees until they locked in place, and he crossed his arms up before his chest. Without having to be told, the seventh years mimicked him again, and Kurama made another round to inspect them. Hiei's third and last stance was a variation of its predecessor. He sank to one knee and lifted the cross of his arms over his head.

Just as for the first one, Harry only copied the position of the arms. And, just as for the first one, Malfoy needed no correction.

At last Hiei moved aside, and Urameshi pushed away from his desk and snapped his fingers. His students gasped and murmured, some even screamed, as a giant sphere of darkness appeared in the exact spot that Hiei had so recently vacated. Its size alone threatened to fill the room. It crackled noisily with energy, and Harry almost thought he could see flashing streaks of electricity passing over its surface.

Urameshi stepped forward and around the dark sphere. "I'm really bending a few rules, opening this thing up in human territory. But with the forest outside forbidden to students, we'll use this _suihou_**(9)** for a substitute. I know there's a spell or something that can suck all the light out of a room, right? Well, this is basically the same idea."

Many students glanced about at that, but this time it was Harry that raised his hand. "You want us to try to defend ourselves in the _dark_?"

"It's the perfect challenge," the silver-haired Kurama answered. "Not too easy, and in a controlled environment, so you need not fear coming to true harm."

Urameshi nodded. "Fox-boy will be your opponent. You'll each follow him into the _suihou_ and block his attacks as best you can for five minutes. When your time is up, you'll be ejected from the _suihou_, and it'll be someone else's turn."

It was something else altogether to watch, Harry mused. The air in the classroom had grown thick with tension. Kurama would escort each student into that sphere, leaving the rest of the class to stare and strain hard to listen for any clues as to what to expect. Yet it seemed the sphere had a power equal to that of the _Muffliato_ spell; not a sound escaped its barriers. Every five minutes, whoever had taken their turn would stumble out of the sphere - some holding an arm or favoring a leg, others collapsing on the floor as tough having fallen down a flight of stairs. Urameshi would instantly come over to move those that had fallen a safe distance away, often assisted by George Weasley, who seemed to need something better to do than simply stand by and watch.

When his turn ended, Ron was one of those to walk out of the dark sphere on his own two feet, though he was holding his arms wrapped around his stomach and it seemed he had sprained his ankle. Harry had to beg a rain check - he could never attempt the test in his current condition. Kurama gave him a look of such understanding, turning instead to Hermione. However, just as the silver fox offered to take her hand and lead her in…

"No," Hiei suddenly hissed.

Kurama jerked his hand back and turned his head, and Harry looked over the fox's shoulder toward the crimson-eyed demon. A bright purple light was glowing behind Hiei's head cloth. Suddenly remembering the darker demon's third eye, Harry bit his lip, already suspecting what came next.

"She must not enter," Hiei quietly insisted. He met Hermione's stare, and his fiery eyes narrowed. "You should exercise better caution. The _suihou_ is a compression of raw energy; the secret you protect so dearly would not survive such a risk."

Hermione gasped, a hand flying to her mouth, and she turned away. Ron was there in an instant, ignoring his bruised stomach and pulling her within the circle of his arms. Harry looked at the both of them, sympathy filling his heart but hardly caring just yet that their secret had been exposed. He fervently agreed with Hiei that the safety of their unborn child was far more important than a classroom test.

Kurama stepped away from Hermione and moved on.

Malfoy was one of the last to step within the dark sphere. Harry found himself waiting tensely, wondering how a newly reborn demon half-breed would fair against the more experienced Kurama. When the five minutes had passed, however, the blond Slytherin did not immediately emerge. More time ticked by, and Harry's heart began to pound against his ribs. But then, just as it occurred to him to worry, Malfoy tumbled out of the sphere at last, rolling along the floor until he crouched on his hands and knees. The blond Slytherin jerked his head up and gave the black sphere a dark scowl.

Kurama emerged more sedately, and it seemed he was striving hard not to laugh at Malfoy's expression. "Don't look at me like that. The rules said five minutes, and you lost. Though I commend you for your spirit. Demons frown upon the idea of giving in."

Malfoy paused, and his scowl was slowly replaced by a reluctant smirk.

"That's right," Urameshi approved. "Learn to take a compliment."

~o~

Hermione was still upset after class had ended, so Ron immediately whisked her off to the Gryffindor common room. George Weasley spoke briefly with Urameshi, and then he too hurried off to that selfsame tower, presumably to check on Hermione and to visit with his brother.

Harry lingered a bit, watching Urameshi and his demon friends talk a moment in a corner of the room before leaving through the secondary door. Malfoy seemed to have the same idea, taking more time than absolutely necessary to check over the books in his bag. When the secondary door slammed shut behind the three older demons, Malfoy hefted his bag and crossed to where Harry still sat upon his desk.

He took Harry's schoolbag, wordlessly setting it with his own upon the floor. Then the blond Slytherin looked up, grey eyes finding emerald green, and Harry's heart missed a beat. He did not resist when Malfoy set his hands to Harry's waist, gently helping him to the floor, and Harry instinctively leaned in when those arms came around the small of his back. One hand came up to cradle the back of Harry's neck, and Malfoy lightly passed over Harry's lips with his own before bringing their mouths together in a quietly urgent kiss. Closing his eyes with a small whimper, Harry fisted the front of the blond's school robes and gave in to the sensation, willingly parting his lips when he felt Malfoy's questing tongue.

Several seconds later, Malfoy pulled away to allow Harry to breathe. He carefully tugged the dark-haired wizard close, now cradling Harry's head to his shoulder. "I've been waiting all day to do that…"

Harry felt a flush of warmth start up his chest to color itself around his throat, but he could not deny his own feelings. Finding himself again in Malfoy's arms brought to him an inexplicable sense of returning home.

He felt Malfoy's hand leave his head, and a moment later the blond was carefully stroking both hands along Harry's ribs. "How are you holding up?"

"I had a little trouble leaving my bed this morning," Harry quietly admitted. "But once I'm up, it's not so difficult to move about."

"I wish I could've been there for you."

"So did I."

Malfoy kissed the side of Harry's brow, finally drawing away, and he took both of their schoolbags over his shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Homework in the library, and then I'll walk you to your tower."

Harry propped his crutch under his arm. "I don't want to go to the tower yet."

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of the blond's mouth. Reaching up, he passed the fingers of his free hand through the other's dark strands. "And where _would_ you like to go on this fine day?"

"Anywhere," Harry challenged, suddenly impish. "Everywhere. The unused classroom in the Astronomy tower. The Quidditch fields. I'd even follow you to _your_ common room, if you want."

That last gave Malfoy pause, slate-grey eyes widening just a fraction. "Really, Harry? You'd come with me to the Slytherin dungeons? But… everyone would see us…"

Harry's mouth turned down in a slight frown. "I'm not afraid of what they'd say. And I don't much care what they'd think. Do you?"

"No, of course not," the blond responded instantly, quietly soothing Harry's ire before it gave into temper. "And I'm not saying you should, either, but…" He sighed, fingers flexing uncertainly around the nape of the Gryffindor's neck. "Harry, I'm a Malfoy. I'm my father's son. And I'm a demon. I'm… significantly _less_ than worthy to be seen in any connection to you."

"You're not worried what the other Slytherins might say about you," Harry realized. "You're worried you'll damage my reputation."

Malfoy nodded. "The library wing would've been easy enough to explain. We could've said we'd been assigned a co-written Potions essay as punishment. After all, we used to haggle each other all the time; it wouldn't have taken much to convince someone that we'd been at it again. But if I were to bring you down to my common room…" He shook his head, and there was an odd light in his eyes. "They'd never let me explain that away. They'd think I was up to something. And whether they approved or not, it still would mean bad news for you."

Harry sighed, stepping closer so that the fingers behind his neck could coax his forehead forth to rest against Malfoy's brow. How was it that _he_ was suddenly the confident one, and reassuring the once-cocky Draco Malfoy, at that. "If you want to hide me away from them a little longer, then fine," he conceded. "I'll even return the favor, and not tell Ron or Hermione until you're ready. But I really couldn't care less about my reputation, Draco. Never have."

"You deserve so much more," the blond softly murmured, unnamed emotion catching in his throat and causing his voice to crack.

"I'm not looking for more," Harry argued. "To be honest, I'd like nothing better than to just leave it all behind and find a world where no one knew me, where I could be free to be who I am, wizard and all, and never have to be reminded that I'm some great hero. But that's probably impossible, so I try not to think about it." He paused, "Whatever this thing is you started between us… I think I like it. And I'm a little curious to see where it's going, but to do that, I need you. Can't we just… wipe the slate clean and start over? You know, starting from the day you sat with me on the train?"

Malfoy closed his eyes and lifted his head away, only to bury his brow in the cove of Harry's throat instead. And Harry felt the blond's warm breath wash into the collar of his school robes as Malfoy whispered, "Harry… I'm trying…"

8) This stance was actually practiced by Yusuke during his earlier training with Genkai. I've also seen him use the other two in the midst of battle. Umm… somewhere…

9) _Suihou _= bubble. I wanted to throw my readers off by having Yusuke call it something unexpectedly harmless, something only he would dare to call it.


	11. Of All Demonkind

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Eleven - Of All Demonkind**

Hours later, Jasper Hale choked on his breath, freezing in place. Kurama and Hiei, who had been following him at a great distance while he searched for something decent to hunt, paused as well. They had been instructed to watch for any clue that he had found his prey, and to refrain from trying to follow after him if ever he broke into a blur of speed. Though he did not doubt that they could defend themselves, Jasper did not like to think what could happen if they distracted him from his hunt.

But he still had not moved. And far behind him, he could feel the tension from the two demons as they began to realize something was amiss. Kurama's voice hollered, "What is it?"

Jasper turned sharply toward the distant castle, and he could feel his eyes darken under the onslaught of impending misery he felt deep within his silent core. "Draco…"

His murmured response must have carried, for within the next handful of seconds both demons had caught up with him, their own eyes intent and demanding. He strove for calm as he tried to explain. "The film of peace I'd erected as a barrier around Draco's demonic energy has collapsed. He's about to awaken…"

Kurama immediately raced for the castle. Hiei only lingered behind long enough to hiss, "Meet us at the clearing," before blurring off in hot pursuit.

Jasper stared after them for a long moment, before his senses were drawn in another direction. He sighed. Might as well feed himself properly before attempting what he knew he would soon have to do…

~o~

Draco was following one of the last corridors that would return him to the Slytherin dungeons. His steps were quiet and unhurried; his eyes wandered aimlessly over the portraits along the way, his mind replaying Harry's words about starting over. But then he paused, turning to stare at one portrait in particular. He knew this one to portray a grey wasteland, its skies dark and clouded, its ground parched and breaking apart. It was home to a sickly vulture on a dead ash tree that would stare hungrily at whoever passed by.

Why, then, was the image sifting down toward the bottom of the frame like sand?

His eyes burned irritably, and he rubbed the back of his fist across them. When he looked up again, all those surrounding the first portrait looked to have been filled with sifting sand as well. He swore and shook his head, trying to clear it, but that only served to make it swim. Reeling, he stumbled back until his spine hit the wall behind him. The corridor seemed to tilt and to whirl. His feet pushed out from under him, and he sank to the floor. Lifting his eyes, he squinted toward the blurred ceiling, which seemed to burst with glaring white explosions of light.

The thought suddenly crossed his mind that perhaps he should be worried, seconds before his eyes rolled back and he slid sideways to the floor as his world was flooded in white…

~o~

The manticora slumped to the ground before Jasper's feet, drained. He'd chosen such a mythical creature, for the power that had crackled within its ancient blood. Jasper knew he would need that power, very soon.

Swiping his thumb across his mouth to catch the last drop of blood that he could feel dripping toward his jaw, he licked it away and raced toward the clearing that had been his refuge.

"_Familiarize yourself with him as often as you can,"_ Alice had instructed. _"He'll need to be able to recognize the feel of your presence, even under duress. He'll trust you swiftly enough, so that shouldn't be a problem. When it's time… find the strongest animal you can to feed from, you'll need its strength. I know you'll succeed, Jasper. I have faith in you. And when the time comes… so will he."_

He fisted his hands as he leapt over a stream in a single bound, the words echoing perfectly in his photographic memory.

_Draco…_

~o~

Malfoy next came awake to the feel of another's agile fingers slipping beneath his head, and then he felt a slight pressure around his eyes, which had yet to open. His head swam dizzily, but he no longer seemed to be drowning in the sensation, and the rest of his body felt a dead weight. Déjà vu. Malfoy opened his mouth to speak, but found his throat too dry.

_Easy_, a familiar voice whispered into his mind. A thin trickle of ice-cold water passed between his lips, and he swallowed it greedily. Another small amount of water, and then a pair of arms crept beneath his back and knees.

He jerked uneasily as he was lifted up, his head lolling uncomfortably back before a third hand gently tilted it up against a strong shoulder. _Easy, Draco_, that same voice soothed again, and he recognized Kurama's deep timbre. _We're moving you somewhere safe._

_Where?_ He breathed.

_The Forest_, answered Urameshi resonating echo, and Malfoy vaguely realized it was the tattooed professor who had hefted him up from the floor. _It's the only place we can guarantee you any real privacy. Trust me, you're gonna need it._

The blond tried again to blink his eyes open. _Why can't I see?_

_Your eyes have become extremely sensitive_, Kurama explained. _I've wrapped them for now. It appears your demon energy has grown tired of waiting and will soon emerge to its fullest manifestation._

_My fullest…?_

_It means it's about to force your body through the change_, Urameshi translated. _Whether you're ready for it or not._

_But_, Malfoy tried to protest. _Jasper…_

_We're taking you to him now,_ Kurama assured, misunderstanding. _He's waiting for you._

The flash of warmth with which his heart had been replaced chose that moment to give a pulse of vengeful fire. The feeling must have been experienced by more than himself, for Urameshi's arms cradled him closer, and Kurama said, _Don't worry. The first time is always the most difficult. But you will not be alone. Your uncle will be there, of course. But so will Yusuke, Hiei, and myself. We will all safeguard you from the Forest's residents while your energy prepares to awaken._

But Malfoy gave his head the barest shake it could endure, a greater need spurring him to speak his request aloud. "H-Harry…"

Yet he was not immediately answered. With a sinking heart, he listened to the stillness of the world as they blurred through it with demonic speed. He felt when they leapt through windows, avoiding doors and the chance of discovery, and he felt when they landed upon the ground far below with not even the slightest jarring to his exhausted frame. In little time at all, he found himself lowered onto a bed of grass, and he could hear the Forest's nocturnal residents cooing and chirruping some distance away.

"Draco!"

With elated relief, he rolled his head toward the sound of that most welcome voice. Warm, careful hands cupped the sides of his face, and he felt the touch of Harry's brow press against his own. Something hot and wet dripped on his cheek, and a guilty lump wedged itself in his throat. "Don't," he croaked, the chords of his throat gone dry again. "Harry, d-don't cry."

The other's forehead lifted from his own, and then that blessed stream of water trickled again over his mouth. As Malfoy gratefully parted his lips to take it in, Harry whispered, "Hiei came looking for me. He wouldn't tell my anything, but I knew it had something to do with you. You wouldn't believe all the things I imagined; I'm almost glad to see you like this instead."

The water stopped trickling into his mouth, and as he swallowed the last of it Malfoy felt Harry's head atop his chest, the rest of the dark-haired wizard stretching out upon the grass at his side. Though it ached him to move, Malfoy lifted his arm around Harry's shoulders and held him closer. "S-stay…?"

"I'm not going anywhere," the other whispered without missing a beat. And, even as he felt his body suddenly slam into the depths of unconsciousness, Malfoy could not help the buzzing warmth within his chest at having his promise returned to him.

~o~

"I believe he passed out," Kurama softly commented. "It must be starting…"

Harry pushed up on his elbow, feeling Malfoy's arm slip down from around his shoulders to rest atop his waist instead, and he studied the blond's face. Carefully, he lifted his free hand and lightly swept his first two fingers along the strip of black cloth that had been tied over Malfoy's eyes. "He's burning up. Is he sick?"

"No," answered Jasper's voice, barely a moment before the vampire stepped out from the shadows of the forest. "The fever is necessary, to help his body adjust to the change."

"Where the hell have _you_ been?" Urameshi snapped.

"Taking precautions," Jasper replied, golden ochre eyes gazing down at the younger blond. Then his gaze shifted to Harry, and he offered a small smile. "Please. Will you trust me enough to step away from my nephew?"

Harry blinked, "S-step away? But…"

"You will not be far from his side," the vampire assured. "Please don't take offense, but… I don't want you to be anywhere near me just now."

Something in the way those words were spoken sent a sudden chill down Harry's spine. Nodding, he wordlessly stood and backed away. Jasper came forward and sank to his knees near Malfoy's shoulder. Looking up, he glanced from Urameshi to Hiei. "Be ready."

Both demons nodded; Yusuke tensed as though ready to pounce, while Hiei tugged his head cloth from around his brow, exposing his third eye.

Jasper bent low over Malfoy's slumbering form, his fingers deftly undoing the first four buttons of the younger blond's shirt and gently working it open. Harry's eyes widened with horror as he watched the vampire lower his head over the right half of Malfoy's chest.

"No!" He started forward, but found himself caught by the arms. Turning his head sharply, he stared to find Kurama standing behind him, pale ivory hands gripping him firmly. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

"He's already requested that the three of us monitor his actions," the silver fox murmured, pirate-gold eyes never leaving the scene before them. "Draco is not in danger."

"But-"

"Some trust, please, Harry. We would never have agreed to this, if there had been any other choice."

Harry's heart still raced in alarm, but he knew he would only be insulting three very powerful demons by arguing further. Turning his head again, he witnessed Jasper's slight hesitation; the vampire drew in a sharp breath and quickly bit into Malfoy's flesh… directly over where the human heart would have been.

~o~

_Fire spread throughout his body, chased instantaneously by searing pain. His silent heart pumped it into his veins, until his very skin burned as though set ablaze. His head swam dizzily, as though he were drowning in a sea of fire and could not for the life of him find the surface. There was not but an endless burning, and infinite darkness._

_**Draco…**_

_His name was whispered by a trusted voice from every corner of the darkness, echoing as though from a great distance. He turned, staring at the shimmering image of his great-uncle, who gave a saddened smile before fading away to reveal Hiei's smoke-in-water presence._

_The darker demon's expression was strained, fiery amethyst dragon eyes blazing, as though he was stretching his concentration very tightly to reach Malfoy in this burning void. Hiei's presence rippled with a grimace, raising a hand to point somewhere behind the blond._

_He turned again, but then quickly shielded his eyes against a pulse of brilliant silvery-white light. This was the same thread as before, he realized, but just as Hiei had warned its energy at its fullest was powerfully bright. Blindly, he reached his hand to it…_

~o~

"_Impedimenta!_" Harry shouted, leaning heavily on his crutch while he threw the jinx toward another horned imp. By the flickering light of their campfire, he spied the silhouettes of giant spiders moving about behind the surrounding trees. He quickly waved his wand in that direction; "_Arania exumai!_"

To his left and right, he could hear Hiei and Kurama help to fight the creatures off; one with a sword, the other with a spiked whip. Somewhere behind him, Urameshi had finally tackled Jasper away from Malfoy and was currently preoccupied with keeping the unresisting vampire pinned to the ground. Jasper, for his part, lay absolutely motionless upon the grass, staring blankly into space with eyes that seemed to have darkened a bit after what he had allowed himself to do.

Harry was grateful the demons seemed to trust him to be able to help in defending their clearing, but he didn't think he could last much longer.

"Do their numbers seem to have increased to you?" Kurama called to Hiei.

"Twice."

"I'm beginning to doubt the end to these spiders…"

"At least the imps are easily disposed of," the darker demon scoffed, jerking his blade free of yet another carcass. "But if you're ready to retreat, go ahead."

"We can't," Harry forbade either of them, flinging another well-aimed jinx. "I promised not to leave him."

Hiei suddenly tensed, turning around. His third eye was glowing fiercely. "You won't have to."

Kurama ceased fighting and turned as well. Harry stared at the both of them, before his mind finally caught on, and he too looked over his shoulder. Jasper seemed unable to come back to himself; but Urameshi, still pinning the vampire down, had lifted his head with a very cocky smirk. Harry shifted his gaze toward the reason, finally spinning all the way around, his heart giving a great lurch toward his throat.

Malfoy had awakened.

He was no longer lying on the grass, but hovering upright some dozen inches in the air. Harry stared as he found the reason for it - wings, real _wings_ had sprouted from behind the younger blond's back and were now holding him aloft. Moreover, his school robes had disappeared. Malfoy was now garbed only in loose white slacks, belted with a bit of rope. His feet and torso were bare, and his pale skin had paled even further, like alabaster. His feathery blond hair had taken on a golden sheen, the ends of which now brushing his shoulders, his very long bangs falling beyond the bridge of his nose. A thin band of mysterious runes seemed tattooed across his brow in silvery ink, a thicker band of the same circling his right bicep. Around the base of his throat was a thin collar of black leather.

The scar around his left wrist stood out even more against his pale skin now, as did the fresh silvery-glistening scar in the shape of a small upside-down crescent moon over the right half of his chest.

His eyes were still covered with the strip of black cloth, yet he turned his head with an uncanny sense of awareness. "Harry," he spoke, his recovered voice now whispering with the undertones of a silken melody. "Get behind me. I don't want you to get hurt again."

Harry quickly pocketed his wand and dropped his crutch, his unsteady feet kicking up grass as he struggled to do as he was asked. In a single moment's distraction, he stared up in fascination at Malfoy's back, and the wings that had sprouted from between the blond's shoulder blades as though they had always been there.

Malfoy spread his arms wide, a soft white glow emitting from his entire body, and the blond gave what sounded like a chant in a language Harry could never hope to recognize. In instantaneous response, all imps and spiders gave screeches of pain, each dropping to the ground with a final twitch before claimed by death. Malfoy lowered his arms. Only after the white glow layering Malfoy's body had faded, and the blond had touched his feet again to the grass, did Harry know it was over.

Malfoy's wings folded behind his back, and he turned around. His silver-runed brow was beaded with perspiration, his lips were slightly parted and quieting gasping for breath - whatever power he had borrowed seemed to have exhausted him. After a moment he lifted his head, and though his eyes were still sealed, he seemed easily to sense the two on the ground. "Let him go," he murmured breathlessly. "My blood is clean. I won't be in danger from him, now."

Nodding, Urameshi pushed to his feet and stood aside. Jasper lay still for another moment, before he too straightened to his feet. The look on his sin-darkened eyes was profound - an equal mix of pride, relief, and saddened self-guilt.

Malfoy shifted, recapturing Harry's attention. His blindfolded gaze seemed to have settled this time upon Harry, and he silently held out his hand. His request was both an invitation and a plea. Harry did not hesitate, stumbling forth to accept the other's embrace. Malfoy's arms pulled him close, and the blond's torso felt strong and cool, as though the burning away of his human blood had caused a drop in his body's natural temperature.

The demons' stunned silence was finally broken by Kurama, whose voice was laced with soft bemusement. "Is this what you've been hiding from us, Hiei?"

The darker demon smirked.

"A _daraku tenshi_," Urameshi mused, turning his head to toss Jasper a crooked grin. "No wonder you were so careful about his awakening."

Harry lifted his head from Malfoy's shoulder, feeling suddenly as though he was missing something. "What?"

"_Daraku tenshi_," the vampire gruffly repeated. "Dark angel. Rarest and purest of all demonkind."


	12. Standing In Our Way

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Twelve - Standing in Our Way**

Jasper's earlier actions were at last explained to Harry.

Despite that Malfoy's demonic blood had been strong enough to bring him back from the very brink of death, apparently it had expended all its birthing power in doing so. And it would never have regained itself in time for Malfoy's 'awakening.' Which, according to Urameshi and his two demon friends, would have meant that Malfoy's 'borrowed time' would have run out. After slipping into unconsciousness in preparation for the awakening, Malfoy… simply would _not_ have awakened. Ever again.

But Jasper had had the answer.

Vampire venom.

While it had cancelled out the atavism with the burning of his own human blood, Jasper had been grimly confident that the same would not be true for his great-nephew. For Malfoy's human blood was still racing, thriving, in his veins. Every cell of it strongly carrying the atavism. All it had needed was a little jumpstart.

Awakening a _daraku tenshi_, a dark angel, apparently came with very tricky requirements. A vampire needed to be involved, obviously - but one with genetic ties with the awakening half-breed. Such a random coincidence was virtually unheard of, Jasper told Harry. Which is why, when his mate had foretold Malfoy's need for him, Jasper had traveled halfway around the world to come to the younger blond's aid.

Though so much vampiric involvement had been necessary, Jasper assured that Malfoy was strictly demon now. The only vampire traits his great-nephew had seemed to inherit were the changes in skin tone and body temperature. The rest had been inherited from his demon blood.

~o~

An hour later, having reclaimed his human body, Malfoy knelt behind Harry's slumbering form and tucked the cloak of his own school robes under the other's head. Lightly passing his fingertips along the strip of black cloth still tied over his eyes, he stood and turned toward where he could sense Jasper watching him. He could not hide the pained resignation in his mundane human voice as he whispered, "Will you leave now…?"

"Do you want me to leave?" The vampire softly asked in return. There was a far larger meaning behind the question, in answer to the larger meaning behind Malfoy's curiosity.

He shook his head.

A very soft, relieved-sounding chuckle reached his ears. "Then I'm afraid I have no choice but to stay."

A short silence fell after that decision, a silence Urameshi broke. "Now that you're better acquainted with your energy, maybe I can convince you to agree to some training."

"Heh," Hiei's voice scoffed from somewhere among the branches overhead.

"No need," Malfoy shook his head again. "I was able to protect Harry _this_ time, but a month from now something might come along that'll prove too strong for me. I don't want to leave him defenseless."

"_Defenseless_ is not exactly the word I would choose to describe _that_ boy," Jasper mused, good-natured humor in his voice.

"Are you saying you want to maximize your strengths," Kurama asked of Malfoy, "but in a hurry?"

He nodded.

Urameshi laughed out loud. "All the power in the world, through a shortcut! Well, I think I have just the thing for you." He paused, and Malfoy could sense the tattooed demon motioning with his hand. "C'mere, and hold your hands out."

Feeling no tension for his vampiric uncle, Malfoy stepped closer until barely an arm's length separated him from his professor and did as he was bade, bringing his wrists together before him. The silver-haired Kurama moved aside; Urameshi murmured something under his breath, waving two fingers of one hand about in the sign of infinity**(10)** around Malfoy's wrists. Bright red energy ignited in the sign's wake**(11)**, locking Malfoy's wrists together, and in echo the blond's legs jerked together of their own will until his ankles touched. With a startled cry, Malfoy fell on his knees to the grass, dropping forward on his immobile hands.

"Draco…?"

"I'm fine," he assured his great-uncle through clenched teeth. After moving hands and feet experimentally, finding he could move neither, he lifted his head and questioned his professor with his blindfolded gaze.

"The technique isn't complete," Urameshi answered, his hand hovering in the air, fingertips still glowing. "When the time's right - and, _believe me_, you'll know - you're gonna need a safety word to deactivate those restraints. Think of a word that's easy to remember, but something you won't accidentally use in everyday conversation."

The blond demon turned his head to gaze unseeingly over his shoulder, and it was no secret for whom he was searching. "What," he slowly asked, "is the Japanese word for _light_?"

The older two shared a knowing glance; Urameshi's mouth tugged in a slow smirk, and Kurama's pirate-gold eyes held a bemused glint. The silver fox knelt before the dark angel, whispering close to Malfoy's ear. "Because you will harness your powers of light to protect him? Or because he is the light that guides you through the darkness?"

With a sharply indrawn breath, the blond turned his head toward the sound of Kurama's voice. And the fox offered a kind smile, knowing it could be sensed through that black strip. "Your instincts are wiser than your years, young one. Continue to trust in them. Search your heart, and realize your true feelings for the boy."

Malfoy grew very still, so that even his breathing had grown quiet. He allowed himself to recall how he had felt the first time he had stolen a kiss from Harry's lips - how he felt each and every time that proud Gryffindor accepted his embrace. How, each time Malfoy held him, he both wished for and forbade himself from something more…

"The second one," he slowly confessed, lifting his head in Urameshi's direction. "Always."

The tattooed professor nodded with another smirk. "_Hikarimono_."

From somewhere in the trees, Hiei's voice broke out in laughter, a sound which was joined by Jasper's soft chuckle. Kurama's smile became one of knowing and understanding.

"_Hikarimono_…?" Malfoy wondered, "What's that?"

"Roughly translated," murmured Jasper, "it means 'luminous body like a shooting star.' A bit poetic, actually."

"Yusuke's always been one for surprises," Kurama's revealed, sounding amused.

His silent heart clenching within the center of his chest, Malfoy sharply turned his head again in the direction of his tattooed professor.

With yet another smirk, Urameshi made a sweeping motion of his glowing fingertips and completed his strange chant, locking the demonic angel's power away with the word Malfoy had chosen for his key. The glowing red energy binding the blond's wrists and ankles grew more solid, and definitely heavier. Once he had done, he finally began to explain; "These energy cuffs are a demon's variation of an emergency training exercise called _Reikohado_. To put it simply, they're like a cast made for improving the strengths of your energy. And trust me, they work."

"Your energy is very strong already," Hiei assured from his perch somewhere over their heads. "But your body is still too new to it. Still raw. Yusuke's cuff technique will help you to bring the two opposites into balance."

"But I can't move," Malfoy protested.

"Hey, you wanted the crash course." Urameshi shrugged, "They're completely immune to physical strength, meaning they only respond to the strength of your spirit. And since that's already pretty high, you shouldn't have too many problems. Go ahead and try to tap into it. Pull your energy under your will and push it toward its limit. After you do that, you should be able to move your arms and legs."

"To move as freely as is normal," Kurama continued for his friend, "you must always keep your energy at its strongest - always nudging, always pushing. This is how the cuffs will work to your advantage. Such a constant flow of your energy will eventually pool into your body, thereby stretching your physical limits so you will not tire so easily after handling it." He paused, "I will remind you, however, that this was originally part of a human emergency exercise, not meant to be part of one's normal training. I advise you to tread cautiously." And the silver fox moved away, giving Malfoy room.

The blond lowered his head, focusing only on the concentrated power humming within his veins. That deadly flare that had tortured him so during his awakening. That silver thread now wrapped fondly around him as though reuniting with an old friend. It needed release, it _wanted_ to come out and play.

Malfoy gave it that freedom.

The thread was glowing so brightly its silver color was nearly white with power. Now that he knew it would answer, he bade it to show him all it had to give. _Prove it to me_, he challenged, and his power gave off another excited explosion of warmth and light. He worked with it, fisting his hands and struggling to wrench is wrists apart from each other…

~o~

The sun was already high in its climb when Harry came awake. Blinking his eyes open, he winced and wrapped his arms around his ribs, rolling to his side with a small groan. The soft sound of footsteps echoed beneath the grass, and he lifted his head to find Malfoy and the silver-haired Kurama kneeling next to him.

"Where does it hurt, Harry?" Kurama kindly inquired, while Malfoy carefully grasped one of Harry's hands in both of his own.

Harry rolled again to his back, letting the silver fox tenderly feel about the surface of his stomach through his shirtfront. When those questing fingers brushed across the right half of his lower ribcage, he squinted his eyes shut with a sharp breath. "G-god," he whimpered. "There…"

Malfoy's hands squeezed his own, a small comfort for the both of them.

"All right," Kurama soothed, slipping his touch away. Sitting back on his heels, he reached beneath the fall of his silver hair and pinched something from the nape of his scalp. He trapped the thing between his hands, rubbing his palms quickly together. An herbal scent filled Harry's nostrils, something between lemongrass and maple dust, and after a moment Kurama carefully slipped both hands beneath the hem of Harry's shirt.

Harry barely flinched at all, still cringing under the throe of pain in his side. His shirt was gently pushed up toward his chest, exposing his stomach. Though the pain felt as though it might burn a hole in his side, the instant Kurama's careful hands rested upon it Harry suddenly felt a little better. The silver fox very lightly smoothed his palms over the tender area, gently rubbing the concoction into Harry's skin.

Harry, still breathing in that heavy herbal scent, gave a sigh and let his head drop to the ground. Malfoy's hands squeezed again around his own, and Harry's mouth tugged in a weak smile to remember that he was not alone.

It was another hour or two before he awoke again, this time to something cool cradling the side of his jaw. Blinking his eyes open, he gave a small smile. "Hey…"

"Hey," Malfoy answered, seeming to stare through the strip of black cloth that still bound his eyes. "Feeling better?"

For an answer, Harry shifted his weight to one elbow and lifted his other hand to catch the back of Malfoy's neck. The blond let the tugging fingers bring him closer until their lips met. Harry felt again that profound sense of longing that Malfoy seemed always to pour into their kisses, and he echoed it, parting his lips and inviting the demonic angel's tongue to play.

When at last they broke for air, Malfoy straightened to his feet and helped Harry to do the same. The Slytherin's mouth quirked in a slow smirk. "I've been waiting to show you something. I hope you're up for a flight."

Harry blinked, knowing a moment of uncertainty. "I-I don't have my broomstick…"

"Not what I meant," Malfoy assured with a soft chuckle. "You're not recovered enough for that, anyway." He lifted a hand, gently sweeping the back of his knuckles across Harry's cheek, and his expression grew tender. "You told me yesterday to trust in myself. In us. Do you remember?"

A thickness lodging itself in his throat, Harry nodded.

"You also mentioned how you wished there was a world in which you would be free to be who you wanted." He paused for a breath, but then apologized; "I don't know if such a world exists. But I think I can at least give you the next best thing." And, almost as easily as breathing, he let his body alter itself into the purer demonic form that had revealed itself the night before. Seeming to stare at Harry through his black blindfold, he held out his hand, mouth tugging in another smirk when Harry did not hesitate to come within his embrace. "Hold tight to me," the golden blond whispered, his own arms carefully cradling the dark-haired youth against himself.

Unknowing, but very curious, Harry lifted his arms and clasped his wrists behind the _daraku tenshi_'s neck. When he saw that Malfoy's wings were spreading wide, he squeezed his eyes tight and buried his face into the cove of Malfoy's shoulder, seconds before they both lifted up into the air.

The very first time they flew together, they had both been naïve first-years, and astride separate broomsticks. Harry remembered clearly; his anger toward Malfoy for stealing Neville Longbottom's Remembrall, and his boundless joy at having found at least one thing he could do at Hogwarts without having to be taught. The feelings were at opposite ends of a polar magnet, and yet on that day had been so strongly mixed that there had been no discerning one from the other.

Harry loved the freedom of flight, and knew he always would. And though he hadn't much felt in the mood for a handful of months, he had known that one day the temptation would return, and it would feel as exhilarating as ever. So, as Malfoy lifted them higher than the tallest trees and beyond the reach of the castle's proud towers, the dark-haired Gryffindor was not surprised to feel a slowly awakening excitement and a sense of anticipation toward the chance to learn where it was they were headed.

But Malfoy only flew straight up, still higher and higher, until at last they broke through the barrier of the clouds. And now he came to a halt, his wings remaining outstretched to keep them hovering without threat of falling. "Here," he whispered, and Harry lifted his head to look around. His breath caught in his lungs.

Even during a Quidditch match or while evading Voldemort's Death Eaters, Harry had never dared fly this high on a broomstick. The earth's sheltering layer of clouds were now rolling several feet beneath them, a soft white blanket hiding what lay far below. Harry let his eyes wander. A floor of clouds under their feet, a dark blue sky overhead that allowed a closer peek of the stars twinkling beyond… Nothing existed here but a sense of serenity. Here, they were alone. They were free.

Harry's eyes stung wetly. "H-heaven…?"

"No," Malfoy answered as quietly, something akin to regret tainting his melodic voice. Harry looked, and his heart missed a beat upon finding an echo of his own aggrieved awe streaming from behind Malfoy's black blindfold. "I'm sorry, Harry," the golden blond murmured, not bothering to hide his tears. "This is only a poor imitation. And as much I would like to, I can't keep us up here forever." His mouth quirked in a truer smile. "I want to find that secret world for you, Harry. And if I have to search to globe to do it…"

"Draco…"

"I've nearly lost everything that still ties me to the Wizarding world, you know." The blond sighed, turning his head as though to stare through his blindfold toward the rolling clouds below. "Frankly, I was surprised to receive my letter to finish the seventh year, considering I've barely any magic blood left in me now. And soon, I won't truly belong anywhere. I want, just as much as you do, to find that world you dream about. Somewhere to live in peace. Where new beginnings are possible. Where we might be looked upon for who we've become, and not for who the world expected us to be."

He returned his blindfolded gaze to Harry, and it was evident that more tears had escaped from behind the strip of black cloth. "Please, Harry. Let me do this for you. Let me finally feel as though I'm doing something worthwhile…"

Harry's heart spilled over with an emotion too pure to describe, and too powerful to ignore. He fervently claimed Malfoy's mouth with his own, pulling himself even closer within the other's tight embrace. Malfoy accepted him eagerly, and he arched his wings to a higher angle, which caused them to slowly turn about as they drifted down toward the ground far below.

~o~

Kreacher had found them an hour later, suddenly appearing as was the way of his kind, with a full lunch for them both. The golden sparrow hawk Esmiril swooped in as they ate, perching on a low-hanging branch and tearing at a large rodent he had caught for his own meal. Harry laughed amiably, and when the bird cocked his head to gaze longingly at their plates, Malfoy tossed him a bit of smoked meat.

Later, Malfoy sat with his back against a tree. Sitting between his legs, reclining against his chest, Harry was idly plucking blades of grass and tossing them up into the air for Esmiril to swoop down and snap at with his beak. A fond smile played at Malfoy's lips as he listened to Harry's obvious enjoyment of the game.

It was a comfortable moment. Time seemed to stand still. There, pain was nonexistent. The cares and troubles which weighed heavily upon the shoulders of the world could not break through the air of contentment found in their small clearing. For the briefest sense of eternity, wishes seemed within reach. Dreams floated about with a newer, gentler clarity. The barriers of reality blended with the wonder of what might have been.

_I should count myself lucky_, Malfoy thought to himself, pulling Harry back against his chest with a soft chuckle of his own as Esmiril swooped a little too close. _I don't deserve to feel this happy, and I know it can't last. So much is standing in our way…_

10) Sign of infinity - description, a symbol resembling the figure eight resting on its side.

11) I know that when Genkai did it, it was yellow, but let's all keep in mind that Yusuke's demon energy is red.


	13. As Long as it Takes

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Thirteen - As Long as it Takes**

Harry returned to classes alone the next day. As he had expected, there was much speculation that he had seemed to disappear for the entire day yesterday. But he waved off any questions with a white lie, explaining that he had suffered a relapse from his earlier _accident_. This only made Ron and Hermione keep an annoying eye on him throughout the day, but he tolerated it well enough.

As he claimed his desk for Defense Against the Dark Arts, he stole a quick glance toward the opposite side of the room. Malfoy's desk stood empty. The blond Slytherin had not returned to classes, nor would he for quite some time. From what Harry had been told as he was leaving the Forest the night before, Malfoy would be undergoing a sort of demonic training.

When Urameshi entered the room, it surprised most of his students to see that he was alone. His two demon companions, who had so often sat in on his classes, were MIA. Aside from Urameshi himself, Harry was perhaps the only one present to know what Hiei and Kurama were up to.

"All right, kiddies," the tattooed professor spoke. "I know more than half of you think you did better than most, the other day, and I won't hide that some of you did mange to impress me. But it doesn't look like you made as much of an impression on Kurama. He denied approval for the extra tutoring to all of you."

Predictably, nearly every student protested loudly about the unfairness of it all. This went on for several minutes, before the low sounds of a very familiar growl began to fill the room. With a respect bordering on fear, the Gryffindors and Slytherins quieted down one by one until they were all facing forward with the cautionary hope of avoiding any of their professor's more… _imaginative_… punishments.

But Urameshi only sat atop his desk and folded his legs together, a very malevolent smirk playing across his mouth as his growling died down. "Now that we've had time to get that out of our systems, maybe you'll let me finish."

"Yes, Urameshi," the students obediently responded. Harry had to make a pretense at rubbing at his nose, hiding a sudden grin at their expense.

"It probably would've been for the best, anyway," the tattooed professor shrugged, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. "Didn't I warn you right from the start that Kurama is a _demon_, and like most of our kind can be ridiculously dangerous? Thank whatever gods you believe in that you've never had to fight him on _our_ terms. Kurama's a ruthless fighter, and something of a legend among our kind. And if you'd been unlucky enough to fight him in one of _our_ territories, you'd find yourself wishing with every breath that it was your last."

While the rest of the class fell into a stunned silence, Hermione's hand hesitantly went up. "Didn't… Didn't you say there were rules about attacking humans?"

"Ten points for remembering," he awarded, himself seeming very amused by the memory. "It's the backbone of a treaty between our kind and yours - that we don't cause any trouble in your territories and that we protect those of you who stumble accidentally into ours, doing our part to see you safely home."

"But I was under the impression that the existence of you demons is something of a secret," Hermione tentatively persisted. "Won't those you return home simply come back with others, possibly with the intent to do you harm?"

"That's easy enough to avoid," he shrugged. "Kurama's snooped a bit in your library; we know that you have something called Memory Charms. Same basic principle."

"You… manipulate their memories, so that they don't remember what they'd seen?"

"Or that what they're seeing is only a bad dream that they'll eventually wake up from."

"But misuse of Memory Charms are illegal in our world," she bravely protested now. "Aren't there rules about that among demons?"

Urameshi's smirk remained strongly in place. "Yeah, actually, there are. Against humans. We can't, for example, make you forget everything about your lives up to that point. And we can't force horrific images into your minds until you snap under the pressure and throw yourselves off the nearest cliff. But against other demons, it's just a matter of self-defense. Never mind that it might give us an edge - how can we know that our next adversary won't have something bigger and better up their sleeve?"

"Can all demons manipulate memories?"

"Not as many as you'd think, but enough to be a credible threat."

"Can you?"

Urameshi smirked again. "No."

He waited for her to ask more, but Hermione seemed to have satisfied her curiosity. Smirk widening, he addressed the class as a whole. "Despite the fact that a good lot of you managed to leave the _suihou_ on your own two feet, Kurama tells me that it was a different story on the _inside_. Not a single one of you could avoid his attacks." Shrugging, he straightened away from his desk and moved about as he continued to speak, "To be perfectly honest, we weren't expecting any better. We even lowered our standards to give some of you hope. But because only a handful of you got through, I'm gonna have to shuffle my lesson plans a bit."

Frowning, Harry raised his hand. "You're not going to cancel the extra tutoring altogether, are you?"

Urameshi's dark eyes flicked to him a moment, a glance laced with meaning. "I'll have to. But don't worry," he assured the rest of the class. "I said you're going to learn to defend yourselves against demons. After the Christmas holiday, since none of you will be learning firsthand, I'll just have to teach you through example."

~o~

Harry lingered after class, waiting until the last of the students had left the room before going up to Urameshi's desk. "It's Draco's training, isn't it," he guessed without preamble. "That's why you're cancelling the extra tutoring."

The tattooed professor looked up, mouth lifting in a crooked grin that bared his fangs. "That obvious, huh?"

Harry nodded, waiting.

"It's part of the reason," Urameshi admitted, stretching his arms high over his head with a wide yawn. He hopped down from the desk, bare feet slapping against the floor as he landed. "I wasn't kidding when I said that your classmates couldn't live up to Kurama's standards. They're all pathetically human, Harry. Couldn't even remember to bring up their arms in the defensive stances Hiei showed them, not two minutes beforehand. And those that _did_ remember to defend themselves never once landed a blow in retaliation."

"Except for Draco," Harry wagered. "Unless you'd consider that cheating."

Urameshi laughed. "Let's just say he had a bit of an advantage. Kurama says your angel's defense was next to perfect, and his counterattacks only narrowly missed." The tattooed professor headed toward the secondary door, but then he paused and glanced back. "You're coming, right? The way he was talkin' about you last night, I'd be willing to bet anything that he's waiting to see you."

Harry felt a flush of warmth creep under his collar at hearing Malfoy referred to as _his_ angel, and it took a second for the rest of Urameshi's words to register. Blinking, he quickly followed his Defense professor. "What do you mean, the way he was talking about me? What'd he say?"

But the other only laughed again, the door slamming shut behind them.

~o~

Malfoy swiftly folded his wings behind his back and rolled, protecting his body as he fell through a bare patch in the trees' branches. Though his eyes were still blindfolded, he could sense the ground rushing up to meet him as though in slow-motion. He twisted his spine, landing in a low crouch upon the ground before shooting up again. The moment he cleared the trees and was in open skies he spread his wings wide to catch the breeze.

He hovered there for a bit, flexing his senses, scanning the treetops until he caught a glimpse of black - _smoke in water_. Malfoy took off like a shot. His instincts proved true; the fiery amethyst eyes of Hiei's dragon-like presence lit with approval as Malfoy closed in. But then the dark demon was gone again - and there was Kurama, a graceful multi-tailed fox's glaring white shadow, his presence warning Malfoy's senses of the crack of a spiked whip.

Malfoy, weaponless but for his strange raw power, folded his wings in again and darted about in an impossible pattern to avoid contact with that whip and its diamond-cutting thorns. He swooped in close, almost unable to believe his luck when he caught Kurama's ankle as the silver fox tried to leap out of the way. But it was a short-lived victory. There was a flash of black energy; the blunt side of a sword's blade slapped the back of his hand, forcing his fingers to release his prey. Swearing, he swung his body about until his feet made contact with a tall tree, using its strong resistance for momentum as he shot off again into the air.

Hovering there, his senses found Hiei and Kurama, both of whom were balanced atop the impossibly thin branches of two separate treetops.

_You are a natural_, the white fox's shadow chuckled into his mind. _But I certainly hope you're not thinking of giving up. You nearly had me that time._

_No, I didn't_, he argued. _You could've just kicked me away with your other foot. And I know that Hiei deliberately waited until the last second to duck out of the way. I had no choice but to switch targets._

The dragon-eyed demon smirked, denying nothing. _Like you'll ever come close to catching me._

Rather than take offense, Malfoy only returned that haughty look with one of his own, remembering a conversation shared with another on a Hogwarts-bound train. _You know that's only going to encourage me to find out for myself._

Both Hiei and Kurama laughed aloud, before disappearing in streaks of blurred movement, and the blond readily took up the chase again.

After the strenuous game of cat-and-mouse, Malfoy found himself standing very still within their clearing. Jasper stood behind him, lightly gripping him by the shoulders, probably feeling the tension rolling off of Malfoy in waves but not permitted just then to do anything about it. The younger blond's mind needed to be clear, for Hiei's careful perusing.

The darker demon stood before them, third eye exposed and glowing. He used its power to help Malfoy explore the confines of his own mind, together cautiously chasing the shadows from each corner as they attempted to shed light to the extent of Malfoy's new but powerful telepathic abilities.

The search lasted over an hour, leaving Malfoy just exhausted enough that the silver-haired Kurama was able to examine the _daraku tenshi_'s eyes without risk to Malfoy or himself. For it seemed the fox demon had a theory as to why Malfoy's eyes still remained incredibly sensitive - on par with the very sensitivity of his telepathy. Telepathy which already rivaled the most basic of Hiei's own abilities, and still had yet to reach full development. Without the proper training, Malfoy could quickly become cursed to know the darkest secrets of any soul he chanced upon with a single glance. And aside from Urameshi or Hiei himself, Kurama was the only available demon with experience in resisting such a damning temptation.

In short, Hiei was helping Malfoy to harness his abilities, while Kurama trained him in terms of practice and control to spare his own mind and those of others.

~o~

The weeks passed swiftly.

Harry came to classes every day. He strove hard to pay attention, even while a good portion of his mind wandered to the Forest, where Malfoy was making his own progress. But in Defense Against the Dark Arts, the entirety of Harry's focus was upon Urameshi and his unorthodox lectures. He absorbed as much as he could of what the tattooed demon had to teach of the realm from which he had come.

His classmates suspected nothing; Harry Potter had always been one of the top students in D.A.D.A. They could never have guessed that this time his reasons for wanting to take it all in were somewhat more personal than the fate of a world that was no longer in danger.

Once the day had ended, Harry would return with Urameshi to the Forest, where Malfoy would be waiting for him after endless hours of demonic training with Kurama and Hiei. The blond's greeting was a sultry, lingering kiss that never failed to set Harry's nerves tingling, and then Malfoy would pull Harry close and spread his wings wide. They would shoot up into the skies, high above the clouds, where Malfoy let them hover as though in their own private world.

When they touched ground again, Hiei would disappear for the rest of the afternoon, while Kurama reported to Urameshi on Malfoy's daily progress. Harry would listen avidly, sometimes finding some of what he heard unbelievable. It was during these times that Malfoy would give a small, self-effacing smirk and confess that the silver fox wasn't exaggerating.

Eventually the skies would darken, and Kreacher would appear with platters from the evening banquet. Jasper would appear, leaning casually back against a tree, giving his great-nephew the comfort of his presence without invading upon Malfoy's time with Harry. It would never be long after the vampire's arrival that Hiei would return as well, standing apart from the others and waiting until Urameshi came over. Whatever they spoke about, they would do so in hushed tones. Sometimes they would barely speak at all, using something that Malfoy had described as the demonic version of telepathy. And sometimes Kurama would get up and join them.

Whatever it was they spoke about, Harry never dared to ask of them. He already suspected it was about the same thing every time. For when they spoke quietly together like that, Urameshi's easy and slightly cocky mood would seem to disappear, and he would come back to the campfire with an unusually solemn light in his eyes. He wouldn't say much after that, until the time came for him to announce that Harry should return with him to the castle.

Yet, despite that, it could almost be called a comfortable pattern.

One afternoon, as Harry entered the clearing, he found Malfoy alone and waiting for him. Hiei and Kurama were not be found, and when Harry glanced over his shoulder he found that Urameshi had seemed to have gone as well. Even Jasper did not appear to be within sight of the clearing. Harry turned back to Malfoy, who gave a crooked smirk and looked suddenly very pleased with himself. Harry's mind at last caught up with him and he realized that the blond was no longer wearing his blindfold.

Harry stared, reaching up to carefully touch his fingertips to the side of Malfoy's face. "Y-your eyes…!"

The blond's smirk softened with growing humility. "Seems Jasper's venom left more of a mark on me than we'd thought…"

And it was true. His eyes had completely changed color. Instead of the slate-grey shade Harry could have picked out from a crowd ten thousand years hence, they were now a piercingly metallic silver. Purer than the raw material found in silver mines. Brighter than a sparklingly polished silver dollar. And clearer than the translucent silver trickling of cool spring water.

Harry brushed his fingers against Malfoy's temple, wondering, "Do they still hurt?"

Though Harry could never learn of the truth of the blindfold's purpose, Malfoy couldn't help but give a fond smile at this show of the dark-haired wizard's concern. "Not as much," he assured. Then, concreting Harry's misunderstanding, he quipped, "But I don't think I'll be staring up at the sun for a while yet."

Harry laughed.

~o~

Colorful October faded and gave way to rainy November, which in turn waned and bled into freezing December. Malfoy finally returned to classes, which caused such a stir among the other students that one would think they had expected him to have died.

It was quite interesting to learn that this had been the whispered theory. Harry was in the Great Hall when he caught wind of it; he threw a quick glance toward the Slytherin table. Malfoy happened to look over at the same time, and the blond's mouth was lifted in an amused smirk. He had heard the rumor too. Malfoy winked. Harry hid a wide grin behind his goblet of water.

Despite all the commotion over Malfoy disappearance and sudden return, Harry could not help but wonder that the blond's drastic change in eye color had escaped notice…

~o~

Three days before the start of Christmas break, Esmiril flew into the Great Hall with the rest of the school's post owls, surprising Harry with an enveloped letter. Harry took one look at the return address and felt his heart freeze in his chest. He forced his hand not to shake as he rewarded the golden sparrow hawk with a piece of meat from his plate. As the bird flew off, he ignored Ron and Hermione's curiosity and turned his eyes toward the Slytherin table. As usual, it did not take long for Malfoy to sense his gaze. The blond looked up. Something in Harry's expression must have tipped him off; Malfoy immediately stood and gave a minute motion of his head toward the doors.

The demonic angel was waiting for Harry just outside the Great Hall. Wordlessly taking his hand, Malfoy led him along the corridor until they found an emptied classroom. A hard-won reflex prompted Harry to lock the door and seal it with _Muffliato_; he definitely did _not_ want to be overheard or interrupted just now.

Malfoy gently tugged Harry into his embrace, sharp concern filling his steely silver eyes when he felt the other trembling against him. "Harry?" He ran his fingers through soft black strands, whispering, "What is it?"

With an unsteady sigh, Harry pulled slightly away, lifting up the envelope between them. "T-this just came for me. It's from Andromeda Tonks."

The concern in Malfoy's eyes was now mixed with dawning realization, though Harry could not begin to guess that the blond demon had already known - for months - which secret he was about to reveal.

"I have a godson," Harry breathed, dark green eyes fixed upon the envelope in his hand. "Do you remember Professor Lupin, in our third year? He was friends with my father, years back. He married Nymphadora Tonks, and they had a son, Teddy, just before they both died here in the castle during that last fight against Voldemort's Death Eaters." He paused to swallow past a thick lump in his throat, "Teddy's being taken care of by his grandmother, but he's still _my_ godson…"

Malfoy gently took Harry's shaking hand in his own. "Harry," he carefully wondered. "Did something happen to him? Is that why you're this upset?"

"I don't know," he answered as softly. He turned the envelope over, "I haven't opened it yet."

Malfoy would have laughed, if the one in his arms was not so obviously distraught. Gently, he guided Harry to a desk and helped the dark-haired Gryffindor to sit. Freeing the envelope from the other's fingers, he tore it open and pulled out its contents.

This time he could not help but laugh, and he help up a photograph for Harry to see. The other's mouth tugged in a hesitant smile. Little Teddy Lupin was sitting upon a blanket in his grandmother's yard, giggling up a storm and clapping his tiny hands as a plastic mobile of Quidditch Quaffles and Bludgers - all circling around a yellow-gold Snitch - hovered about over his head.

"Hang on," Malfoy murmured, peering closer. "Not that he has much of it yet, but why does it look like his hair's changing colors?"

Harry looked, and an awed laugh escaped him as the thin tuft of hair atop Teddy's head went from blond to black, to blue, and then again to blond.

"How's he doing that?"

"Tonks was a Metamorphmagus," Harry explained. "She could change her appearance at will. But it always looked like she had to concentrate to do it; I used to think it was painful for her."

"Doesn't seem to be a problem for her kid, though," commented Malfoy, handing the photograph over.

Harry spared another long minute looking at it, and the infant it portrayed, experiencing mixed feelings. "I suppose Lupin would've been relieved to know Teddy took after his mother after all…"

"Lupin." Malfoy made a show of trying to think back, though in truth he remembered very well who it was they were talking about. "Wasn't he rumored to have been a werewolf?"

"Not rumored," Harry corrected, almost defensively. "He _was_ a werewolf, and a good man. He married Tonks after she wouldn't take no for an answer - and I'm still applauding her for that. But when Teddy was born, Lupin was worried that his child might take after him. He didn't want his 'curse' to be passed on, you see."

"I don't see how any father would want his kid to suffer through the same things he did," Malfoy agreed, unwillingly recalling that his own father had done just that. He looked down at the letter still in his hand; he unfolded it and passed it to Harry. As the dark-haired youth looked it over, Malfoy moved behind him and read over his shoulder:

To Mister H. Potter,

Sorry it took so long to get in touch, dear. The Weasleys mentioned that you mightn't have wanted to be disturbed for a while, and I agreed that you deserved a bit of peace and quiet.

But now it's December, and Christmas is drawing near. I do hope you might want to visit for a few days. At least to stop by and say hi to Teddy. He's such a dear, and I know he'd love to get to know his godfather. But if you can't come this year, I'd certainly understand. Send an owl or two, though, won't you? I'd love to hear from you.

Here's a picture of your godson, by the way. Took me forever to get him to sit long enough for the camera, the little darling; he keeps insisting on crawling off on his own. He does make me wonder where he's in such a hurry to get to…

Hoping to hear from you soon,

Andromeda Tonks

Harry read the letter over a second time, his relief that nothing had gone wrong taking a backseat to his trepidation at the invitation. He wanted the chance to get to know little Teddy, but he doubted he was ready to face the questions. And he knew there _would_ be questions; it would be like after Cedric Diggory had died, all over again.

Malfoy settled behind him upon the desk, his arms coming around Harry's middle to pull the dark-haired youth back against his chest. "Harry… You don't have to, if you don't want to. Stay here at Hogwarts over the holidays, like you always do. Or go home, where nothing can get to you if you don't want it to." He tilted his head forward, nuzzling the other's cheek. "You have the summer to look forward to; you can visit him then. The kid's birthday, another Christmas… But wait until _you're_ ready. You have every right to wait as long as it takes."


	14. Their Every Devotion

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Fourteen - Their Every Devotion**

Ron and Hermione stared, disbelieving. Ron sputtered, "W-what do you mean, you're not coming over for the holiday? Harry, mate… You know Ginny's going to be anxious to see you."

Sighing, Harry shook his head. He had known this would be difficult. "Ron," he began, "I'm sorry. I care for Ginny, you know I do. She means the world to me. But I just… don't think I'm right for her…"

The redhead looked about to protest to that, but Hermione quickly silenced him with a hand to his arm. She offered Harry a saddened smile. "We understand. You just need more time."

That wasn't exactly what he was getting at, but Harry let it go for now. Looking for a change of subject, he dug into his back pocket and showed them the letter he had received that morning. It worked marvelously; both Ron and Hermione exclaimed over the photo of little Teddy. However, though they had accepted that he would not be visiting the Burrow, they were not so easily convinced that he shouldn't stop by the Tonks' place for a day or two. Harry patiently argued his point, knowing they were only looking out for him.

~o~

Malfoy spread his wings wide, bringing his wrists together before his chest. He glanced up; Kurama and Hiei guarded him on the right and left, and Urameshi waited some feet in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated all his energy toward his wrists, feeling its familiar silver-white thread weave around the foreign power shackling him so uniformly. He gave his wrists a jerk, wrenching them apart as he cried out, "_Hikarimono!_"

The glowing red cuffs that had been stifling his energy at last broke away. He felt his energy rejoice to finally be let loose, and it burst from his body in a flood of white light that shook the ground and caused the surrounding trees to tremble. His steely silver eyes burned with the force of the power swimming so freely along his veins, and he quickly closed them against the secrets of the world. The clearing echoed with the sound of his own demonic voice singing an indecipherable hymn, though he knew none of it was passing through his lips.

When the hymn ended, the following silence was resounding. Feeling an airy touch at his arm, Malfoy opened his eyes and looked up, staring. Shimmering shadow-like forms smiled back at him. Two women, more beautiful than any Veela, with eyes like his and glistening runes scrawled over their delicate flesh. They were _daraku tenshi_ - demonic angels, like him. One placed a hand over his heart; the other skimmed an airy kiss against his cheek. But then the bright glow of his power finally faded, and they were gone, leaving him feeling strangely alone.

"Draco…?"

He fell to his knees in the snow, gasping for air, and his vampiric uncle followed him down, lightly bracing his shoulders. He felt Jasper's unusual power wash over him, gently numbing the sudden ache in his chest and coating it with familial fondness, a reminder that he would never again be without support. Still, Malfoy could not halt a few lingering tears from trailing down his cheeks as he lifted his head and wordlessly demanded answers from his three demonic tutors.

Urameshi's smirk was uncharacteristically somber. "Say hello to your ancestors, kid."

"M-my…" Malfoy turned his head, glancing over his shoulder. Jasper nodded. "I don't understand," the younger blond stammered, returning his gaze to the older demons. "H-how did-?"

"Please don't get yourself worked up," the silver-haired Kurama advised as he came over, with Hiei shadowing him from the opposite side. "Remember that the same rules do not apply for demons - and vampires - as for humans. We may live for many centuries. As your great-uncle's presence proves, it is only natural that one's predecessors may appear as young and fit as oneself."

"Y-you mean… my ancestors could still be alive today?"

"No," the fiery-eyed Hiei gruffly denied. "Only one _daraku tenshi_ per generation."

"What?"

"Draco," Jasper sighed, leaning close to whisper sadly into the younger blond's ear. "There is a reason why yours is the rarest breed of all demonkind. A dark angel's atavism cannot be activated until after the one to come before it… dies."

Malfoy's silver eyes widened, a few more tears leaving fresh scalding paths down his cheeks. "But… those w-women I saw…"

"We saw them too," Urameshi solemnly nodded. "They were imprints. Sort of like fingerprints on their energy, which passed through each of them on their way to you."

He tried his best to absorb that, but his usually silent heart whispered mournfully seconds before the anguish was chased back by another wave of comfort.

"Hell of a shortcut, though," Urameshi added, with a plastered-on grin as he mercifully directed the conversation down a less painful route. "Two-and-a-half months, to gain the power it would've taken anyone else nearly twenty years to earn. How do you feel?"

"I imagine he feels quite exhausted after all that," a new voice broke in.

Urameshi's spine stiffened, and his smirk quickly disappeared again; Kurama and Hiei whirled around. Jasper remained motionless and quiet behind Malfoy, but his hands grasping the younger blond's shoulders seemed to tense infinitesimally.

Malfoy slowly stood, feeling his great-uncle shift to his feet as well, and he passed the back of one hand over his eyes as he looked over his tattooed professor's shoulder. A young man had entered their clearing, garbed in eastern-style robes of blue and red. A chill, wintry breeze teased at the feathery strands of his brown hair, and he had eyes the same liquid color of warm amber that Jasper's would claim when the time to hunt again drew near.

"Yusuke," the stranger spoke again. "Won't you look at me?"

~o~

His heart wrenching at the sound of that painfully familiar voice, Yusuke shed his demon form and turned around. The tattoos of his ancestors no longer marked his skin, which had paled to the more natural tone of his Japanese descent, and his hair no longer fell over his fierce brown eyes. But though every particle in his being itched to move forth, he remained where he stood, balling his fists at his sides. "Koi," he pleaded.

The young deity knew what he was asking. Koenma gave a small smile; his warm amber eyes seemed clear and focused and definitely in the present. He nodded.

Yusuke swiftly crossed the clearing and pulled the other close, claiming the young deity's mouth in a thorough and lingering kiss. "I waited," he growled against the other's lips as they broke for air. "You asked me to wait, and it killed me, but I did."

"I know," Koenma whispered, and Yusuke tasted the salt of the other's tears as they kissed again. Koenma parted his lips, allowing Yusuke's questing tongue to re-familiarize itself with the slick caverns of his mouth.

Yusuke tugged the young deity close afterward, a shuddering sigh escaping him. "_Never_ ask me to leave you like that again…"

"I'm sorry. I didn't want you to see me like that."

"It wouldn't have changed anything," he shook his head. Pulling slightly away, Yusuke pinned the young deity with his dark gaze. "I love you," he growled fiercely. "I was an idiot for not realizing it sooner, but don't think for a _second_ that I'm gonna let anything take you from me now. If anything - _anything_ - like this happens again…"

Koenma finally smiled. "I'll have more faith in you, Yusuke; I swear. And I plan to make it up to you. I've been pushing out three times as much work to make room for a vacation. You'll soon grow sick of me."

"Don't hold your breath," Yusuke smirked, thumbing the rest of Koenma's tears from his face. He moved behind the young deity, pulling him back against his chest as they both faced Yusuke's new prodigy. "Koi. Meet this generation's _daraku tenshi_, and the vampire who jumpstarted his atavism. Draco Malfoy, Jasper Hale… Koenma, son of the Spirit King."

The blond angel folded his wings behind his back and offered a small bow. The vampire merely nodded in cautious respect.

Koenma smiled again, stepping out of Yusuke's embrace to approach the new demon. He paced from one side of the boy to the other, noting with some amusement how the vampire's golden ochre eyes would watch his progress. He paused, making a show of sizing them up. Cocking his head, he peered a long moment at the boy, who was suddenly and very carefully avoiding direct eye contact. Finally, he nodded. "I thought I recognized your face."

The vampire froze, becoming like a stone statue with how perfectly still he held himself. The boy's eyes darted up to meet his gaze, before flicking quickly away again. "Sir?"

"My chief pilot of the River Styx threw quite a fit on your account, you know," he chuckled, remembering. When both blonds seemed to tense at that, Koenma explained. "On the day of your death, we were more than ready to accept you into the hereafter. Botan, our lead pilot, had left immediately to guide your spirit to us. But when she arrived, you'd already gone." He gave another soft chuckle, "She nearly lost it, and sent half my ogres into a frenzy trying to find you. It was another week before we realized what had happened."

"If I had known my involvement would stir up so much trouble…" The vampire quietly began in apology.

But Koenma only shook his head, while behind him Yusuke laughed outright. "On the contrary," the young deity assured. "You've probably saved me a great deal of red tape."

"Excuse me?"

"Draco's ancestors," Yusuke spoke up, stepping closer behind Koenma to take the young deity again into his arms. "_Your_ ancestors… They were pacifists. They'd only believed in self-defense or the defense of their loved ones. That, and the fact that Draco's body was just strong enough to accept its demon blood directly after he'd died. King Yama had no solid reason to send his special forces to destroy Draco's soul and stop the awakening. No, that's a _good_ thing," he quickly added when both blonds flinched. "Look at it this way: I was unlucky enough to have to die _twice_, before my demon blood kicked in, and _my_ ancestor was a cutthroat with a taste for power. Yama's special forces were _very_ determined to stop me."

"But you're still alive," the vampire whispered.

"Well, yeah," Yusuke laughed, a slightly evil gleam in his eyes emphasizing the cockiness of his grin. "When Koenma tried to defend me, their leader practically threatened to make him share my fate. Bad move."

~o~

The boy's gaze flicked over to Hiei for the briefest instant, a warning and a plea. The darker demon stiffened as he read that look. "Close your eyes," he suddenly demanded of everyone present as he blurred forth. "Shield your minds."

Such was the cord of trust that ran through their small group, that even Koenma turned his gaze away without question.

Jasper brought a long strip of black cloth down over Malfoy's eyes, swiftly blindfolding the younger blond and knotting the strip at the back of his head. His nephew gave a quiet, relieved sigh, and he lightly grasped the demonic angel's shoulders once more, at last closing his own eyes and turning his head aside.

Hiei, having experienced firsthand the vampire's mental defenses, did not doubt that they would've protected Jasper's mind, even had he left his eyes open. The dark demon knew Jasper's compliance was simply a gesture of goodwill.

Rolling his eyes, he returned his attention to Malfoy. _Where are your blockades?_

_They're intact_, the younger blond answered, slowly breathing in and out to focus himself. _But the prince… His aura is too powerful. It took all my concentration just to keep from trying to look into him._

The flickering of a white shadow; _Hiei?_

_Koenma's aura is bombarding the boy's senses_, the darker demon hissed. _Give us a moment._

Kurama's response was simply to withdraw his presence from their minds.

_Count your blockades_, Hiei urged Malfoy, with more patience than would have been expected of him. _Picture them in your mind, as the fox taught you. Build your defense. Your mind can be a powerful weapon, and an even more unforgiving fortress. Its only weaknesses are the ones you leave there._

Several minutes passed as the younger demon held very still, delving into the sanctity of his own mind to assure himself of its defenses. At last, he let out another sigh, the tension leaving both himself and his vampiric uncle as Malfoy lifted his head.

~o~

Hiei's smoke-in-water presence gazed at him with steady dragon's gaze. _Better?_

_Yes… Thank you, Hiei._

He sensed the darker demon's smirk as Hiei announced to the others, "It's done."

Their companions and the demigod Koenma heeded the all-clear, their expressions curious and even vaguely concerned as they glanced to one another and then to the youngest and newest of their group.

"Draco!"

All turned in the direction of the distraction. Urameshi's smirk widened, Hiei gave a soft "Heh," and Kurama bit his lower lip to hide his own smile. Malfoy's silent heart gave an extra pulse of warmth as he sensed a wisp of silvery white smoke in the insubstantial form of a young stag race across the clearing. Jasper's voice lightly chuckled in Malfoy's ear, and he could feel the vampire stepping away to give him some room.

His mouth quirking in a half-smirk, he opened his arms, welcoming Harry into his embrace. "Hold tight to me," he murmured, fiercely claiming the other's mouth with his own as he spread his wings wide. Like a bullet, they shot into the air, high above the trees and beyond the clouds.

~o~

Unable to resist a slow smile of his own, Koenma turned his bemused gaze upon the vampire Jasper. "Did I miss something? Who was that?"

"Harry Potter," the glitteringly pale creature smiled softly. "Draco's secret love."

"Though how the rest of their classmates could miss something so obvious is beyond me," Yusuke shook his head, still smirking.

Koenma's smile wavered. "Potter? Not the Harry Potter that Albus had kept such a close eye on?"

Three demons and one vampire exchanged a startled glance, and Kurama cautiously commented, "Now it is I who feel as though we've missed something…"

Koenma's eyes grew troubled. "That poor boy…"

"Koi?" Urameshi looked to the young deity in his arms. "What is it? Don't tell me that bastard Voldemort still has followers wantin' revenge?"

With a sharp gasp, he turned his head. "You know about Voldemort?"

The silver-haired Kurama sighed heavily, "We all do. We healed Harry some months ago, after he'd tried to steal his own life."

"We shared his memories," Hiei stated.

"And though I wasn't quite included in that," the vampire Jasper apologized, "Draco later saw fit to fill me in."

"Oh," Koenma declared shortly, and from his expression it was clear he had somehow missed that one. He shook his head again, "But that's not what I mean. Voldemort _is_ dead, and _all_ of his followers have been executed or strongly apprehended. No, I'm afraid this is serious on a wholly separate level."

He lifted his hand, snapped his fingers. A hologram appeared before then, its image as liquid and uncertain as the surface of the ocean under a wayward breeze. Koenma studied the faces of the others and knew that the three demons, at least, seemed to have no trouble recognizing the face on the hologram. "This is Ginny Weasley," he said anyway. "Harry's ex-girlfriend. She let him go when he suspected that Voldemort would use her to get to him, but now she's waiting for him to return to her." He sighed, and the hologram wavered and was gone. "And I'm afraid he will. He must. His case is such a unique one that even my father insisted we look into the boy's future to see how he fares. Harry Potter _must_ return to Ginny Weasley."

There was a long silence, as the demons tried to absorb the revelation - Jasper seemed frozen in shock. Urameshi rested his chin on Koenma's shoulder, whispering, "Are you sure?"

Koenma swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat, nodding.

"But he and Draco," Kurama softly argued. "You saw them… How _right_ they are together…"

"It almost pains them to be apart," Hiei gruffly put in.

"Koi," Urameshi fervently requested. "You know I'm all for breaking rules that need to be broken. Can't we work our way around this one?"

Koenma looked at all three in turn, quietly surprised to hear them protest the boy's fate so passionately. Even Hiei had spoken out, and in favor of a human, at that. Perhaps they had caught on to something about this whole thing that Koenma had yet to discover. Was it simply for Harry's sake, or for the sake of the demonic angel?

Or was there truly something about the two of them together, as Kurama had mentioned. Something so powerful, so… _right_, that three demons were willing to defy the Spirit King yet again to defend it…

"Wait," he whispered, as inspiration dawned. "There _is_ a way!"

Kurama and Hiei exchanged a determined glance, and Urameshi hugged the young deity closer. "Tell us, koi. What do we have to do?"

He shook his head, hoping they would understand. "This has to be done according to the laws of Draco's ancestors. _He_ has to be willing, and so does Harry."

"What do they have to do," Kurama rephrased Urameshi's question.

"They haven't slept together yet, have they?" Koenma suddenly demanded.

The three demons turned to Jasper, the only family Malfoy possessed that was not forbidden from him, and the boy's trusted confidant. The vampire seemed suddenly to return to himself, golden ochre eyes focusing on them for a long moment before he finally shook his head. "Someday leaving Harry torments him enough, and Draco believes that he would never survive the loss if he let things get that serious."

"But why would that be so important," Kurama wondered.

"I think I know," Urameshi hesitantly spoke up. Straightening, he lifted a hand to the collar of Koenma's robes, pulling it slightly back to bare his lover's shoulder. What was revealed, the other two demons had never before seen, but had long known to be there.

Koenma carefully explained his option for their highly-regarded demonic angel. After he had finished, he noted by their expressions that they did indeed understand the gravity of what he was suggesting. Nodding, he shifted back against Urameshi's chest and let the dark youth pull him even closer. He sighed, "I just hope they try. This will likely test their every devotion…"


	15. All He Could Hope For

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Fifteen - All He Could Hope For**

Harry lightly passed his fingers over the black cloth tied over Malfoy's eyes. "Did they start to hurt again?"

"Briefly," the blond confessed. He smiled, "I knew I shouldn't have stared so long into the sun."

He was rewarded with the sound of Harry soft laughter. "They'll get better in time for the holiday, won't they? I wanted to ask you…"

Malfoy's smile softened in the wake of the other's slight pause. "What is it, Harry?"

He both heard and felt the Gryffindor draw in a deep breath. "I don't really want to spend another Christmas here at Hogwarts. Now that I've got a place of my own, I'd like to try the holiday there. Kreacher's been hinting at a celebration of sorts, anyway, and I can't bring myself to let him down…"

The blond automatically shifted his wings as he felt a soft breeze brush against their feathers, though his silent heart was murmuring with surprise. "You're inviting me to come home with you?"

He felt Harry's brow duck into the cove of his shoulder. "Draco," the other whispered, voice muffled by the demonic angel's bronzed collarbone. "I've never… done this before…"

It was not difficult to guess what he meant, and Malfoy felt the emotion tighten the chords in his throat. "Harry… Before you, relationships were just a chore to keep up my image. You've shown me they can be more." Swallowing, he cradled the back of the other's head, carefully holding him close. "You're the first to make me want to better myself. I'd never felt so… needed, and yet I can't believe how…" He took a breath, "How _vulnerable_ I want to leave myself before you."

Harry turned his head, cheek resting atop Malfoy's shoulder. "I didn't used to have much success with relationships. First with Cho, and then…" (Malfoy tensed, fearing the dark-haired wizard would speak her name aloud, but then he breathed again in relief when Harry only sighed and moved on.) "But now… With you, it feels… right."

"The freedom of surrender?" Malfoy softly suggested.

"Yeah…"

~o~

When they came down into the clearing again, Malfoy lightly kissed Harry's forehead as his demonic self dissolved into its human guise. With a small smile, he finally released the Gryffindor from his embrace, and Harry turned to their not-so-tattooed professor. Perhaps if he had not been paying attention in class - or if Malfoy did not shift forms in front of him on a nearly-daily basis - it would not have been so easy for him to recognize Yusuke Urameshi. He did _not_ know the identity of the one in red and blue, but Harry trusted that neither the demons nor Jasper would have let him into their clearing if there was any danger.

Harry returned his attention to Urameshi. "I don't know whether you'd accept it. But I'd like to invite you to celebrate the Christmas holiday with us at my home. The castle gets pretty empty this time of year, and I have plenty of room for all four - err, _five_ of you," Harry swiftly amended, letting the newcomer know with a glance that he would be included. "And don't worry about having to hide who you are; there'll be no one there I'd have to explain you to."

"Harry is the magical heir of House Black," Malfoy smirked, entwining his fingers with the other's as he joined at Harry's side. "Master of his own domain. There, his word is law. And aside from Kreacher, Esmiril, and himself, the place is likely quite vacant. Perfect for hiding away a secret or two."

"Will you be there?" Kurama wondered, a knowing look in his pirate-gold eyes.

The blond's smirk widened beneath his black blindfold. "Naturally. I was invited."

Urameshi looked about to say something to that, but the amber-eyed newcomer quieted him with a hand to his arm. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself to you yet. My name is Koenma. And, much as your invitation appeals to each of us, I regret that Yusuke and I will have to turn you down. We've got a great deal of catching up to do, and Yusuke's already declared his intention to not let me out of his sight."

Harry's eyes widened with swift realization, and he looked to Urameshi in time to see the young professor shrug with a guiltless smirk.

"I'm afraid I must decline as well," Kurama spoke up. The silver fox looked deeply apologetic as he explained, "Here in the human world, I have set up a comfortable life for myself. That life includes a doting family that I have not been to see for some time. I'd already made a promise to visit my mother for the holiday, and I'm reluctant to disappoint her at such short notice."

Harry nodded that he understood, though he was feeling increasingly depressed. He turned to Hiei and Jasper. The fiery-eyed demon shook his head; "The human world and I do not often get along. I, too, have someone I must visit first, but then I intend to take advantage of this chance to return for a day or two to our own world."

"It would be better if I waited here for your return," the vampire added, an apologetic glance in Malfoy's direction. "London does not provide hunting options, but for the one I strive to avoid. I don't usually celebrate Christmas in the traditional way anymore, anyway, but if you want I'll happily share in the spirit of the holiday with the both of you after you return."

Malfoy's mouth broke out in another smile, meant for his uncle alone, and the younger blond nodded. Beside him, Harry returned his beseeching gaze upon the three demons. "You'll be here when we get back, right?"

"Of course, Harry," Kurama smiled.

"Yeah," Urameshi smirked again. "Don't forget, I've got that wonderful demonstration planned for when classes start up again."

Malfoy squeezed Harry's hand, comfortingly. "And you know I'm not going anywhere without you. So, go on; spend a few last minutes with Granger and Weasley, and don't forget to let Kreacher know he'll be expecting one more."

Harry's light mood returned instantly; he kissed Malfoy soundly on the mouth before racing off toward the castle.

~o~

Malfoy let him go, and only after the smoky silver-white stag's presence had gone from the clearing did the blond's smile disappear from his lips. "I shouldn't have said yes," he murmured, self-deprecating. He turned his head, his senses finding the black smoke-in-water interpretation of Hiei's aura. "It'll only make it that much harder for him when I have to say no."

The fiery amethyst glow of the darker demon's dragon eyes shone with rebellious understanding. Kurama drew near, then, drawing Malfoy's senses toward his glaring white multi-tailed shadow. "Draco," the fox demon softly replied, every sympathy in the deep timbre of his voice. "We know why you believe what you have with Harry can't last. But Lord Koenma has a proposal that might just change your mind."

~o~

Harry smiled, leaning over to smack Malfoy on the knee. The blond blinked his silvered eyes open and lifted his head. Biting his lip to keep from laughing aloud, Harry commented, "You were snoring again."

"Was not," the demonic angel mildly argued. He rubbed the back of his neck beneath the collar of his dark tan cloak, tossing Harry a mock glare before dropping his head to his hands. "Malfoys do _not_ snore."

No longer able to resist, Harry burst with laughter. He glanced out their compartment's window and saw that they were nearing the city. Standing, he came over and sat next to Malfoy on the opposite bench. "Fine," he smiled again "You weren't snoring."

Malfoy dropped his hands and lifted his head with a slow smirk.

"But I'd wipe that drool from your mouth, before we step out into public."

Though he suspected Harry was teasing, the blond quickly caught his fingers to his mouth to search for the evidence. When he heard the other's poor attempt at stifling another laugh, Malfoy turned upon him with a dark glint in his steely silver eyes. Harry tried to school his face into an expression of innocence, but he knew he'd been caught.

Malfoy pounced. With a light shove of his hand at Harry's shoulder, he pushed the other back until Harry fell back atop the cushions and then followed him down. Leaning over him, Malfoy captured Harry's mouth with his own in a tender yet very thorough kiss. He quested his tongue forth, seeking entry. Harry gave it to him.

Though Malfoy was infinitely gentle, an uneasy flush of heat blossomed from the pit of Harry's stomach. Something in the blond's kiss this time bespoke an underlying urgency that had never been present before.

The train gave a subtle jerk as it began to slow. Malfoy passed his lips over Harry's one more time before straightening away. Harry let the blond pull him to his feet, only swaying a little when the train finally shuddered to a complete stop. Malfoy held Harry close, lips sweeping across his brow. "I'm sorry," the demonic angel whispered.

"Why?" Harry wondered, looking up. "I'm not hurt."

But something dark and remorseful passed over Malfoy's eyes, and he did not answer, instead helping Harry to gather his bag and birdcage. Snatching his own bag, he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head before taking Harry's hand and leading him out of the compartment.

~o~

They were met with a very unexpected surprise as they were about to leave the station. Harry stared, unwilling to believe his own eyes.

"_Dudley?_"

The heavy-set teenager gave a hesitant smile in greeting, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "Hey…"

Blinking, Harry tried to regain composure as he stole a quick glance around. "Your mum and dad aren't here, too, are they?"

"No," the other shook his head, looking momentarily uncomfortable.

Malfoy stood silently at Harry's side, his silvered eyes watching the Muggle carefully under the hood of his cloak. He did not forget that nearly all of Harry's memories of his cousin had been far from pleasant. But, as Dudley Dursley had attempted to make amends last year, Malfoy ignored his initial instinct to pummel this particular human to the ground. For now.

"What are you doing here?" Harry was now asking of his cousin.

Dudley shrugged, and he even shuffled his foot as though embarrassed. "I remembered that your school usually lets out for the holiday right about now, so I came down."

"But I never used to leave Hogwarts for the Christmas season," Harry reminded, confused. "You know that."

That hesitant smile again. "I kept my fingers crossed."

"But-"

"I know we were the main reason you stayed behind," Dudley interrupted. "But, now that you have your own place, I was kinda counting on you looking forward to a holiday spent away from school."

Harry blinked, "Why?"

There was a slight pause, before Dudley unzipped his coat and brought something out from one of its larger inside pockets. In his thick palm rested a small black box, which he tossed forward. His aim was a little off, though, and it was Malfoy who swiftly caught the thing before it could fall to the pavement. Harry stared as it was passed along to him. "A present? From _you_?"

Dudley said nothing, looking properly embarrassed now as he zipped his coat up once more.

"Bet your uncle loved that," Malfoy muttered near Harry's ear.

Harry shushed him, staring down at the box in his hands for a another minute before slipping the blue ribbon free and lifting the lid. "Wow," he whispered, pure amazement in his voice as he stared at the cover of a paperback graphic novel, entitled _Last Dance of Chances_.**(12)** He lifted it up, and found a hardback copy of the original novella underneath. The corner of his mouth tugging in a smile, he put the ribbon in with the books and replaced the box's lid. "Thanks."

Dudley shoved his hands further into his coat pockets. "I never read it, so I don't know if it's any good. From what I could gather from the cover flap, though, there should be enough myth and magic at work to keep you entertained." He gave a truer smile this time; "You don't hate it?"

"I never told one of my friends this, because it would only encourage her, but when I'm not being forced to study I actually enjoy an interesting read." Harry shrugged, "What I can't figure out is how you knew."

"I know I never made any effort to understand you." Dudley tossed Malfoy an annoyed glance; "And yeah, Mum and Dad were a big part of that." Returning his attention to Harry, he added, "But I remembered that every time we had to 'drag' you along whenever they wanted to spoil me, you'd always made a beeline for the bookshops. Guess I got something right, after all…"

"Hey, wait." Harry called as his cousin began to turn away. "Where are you going?"

"I never exactly got Dad's permission to be here," Dudley Dursley tossed over his shoulder. "Told him I'd be over at Piers'. Might as well put in a show there, before I head back home. See you, Potter."

Malfoy grimaced as the Muggle teenager walked away. "Now I understand why you were so quick to agree when _I_ stopped calling you that. It sounds _appalling_, hearing it from this end."

Harry laughed.

~o~

They grabbed a taxi to take them into town, and then walked the last few blocks to the Leaky Cauldron. Malfoy hung back behind the stairs as Harry went up to the counter and requested a room. Jasper had avoided any commotion for his sake during their last stay here, and the tavern's keeper Tom had been most discreet, but the demonic angel would not risk anything jeopardizing Harry's enjoyment of the holiday.

They stashed their things in their room, and then Malfoy asked Harry whether he had ever visited Diagon Alley during the Christmas season. When the dark-haired wizard admitted that he hadn't, Malfoy declared it a top priority to remedy that oversight.

He knew at once that he had made the right decision. Harry stared at the shops lining the streets, each one dressed with silver garland that had been charmed to sparkle like starlight. The streetlamps were dimmed, the better to enjoy the baubles of light hovering overhead. Tiny wooden models of Saint Nicholas had been spelled to fly about and drop candied chocolates into the hands of random passersby. And at every corner were hung glittering sprigs of holly and the occasional mistletoe.

"So," Malfoy smirked as he turned to the Gryffindor at his side. "What would you like to do first?"

Harry's dark green eyes were wide and staring. "I…"

Softly chuckling, the blond took his hand and led him along the Alley.

They browsed through many shops, taking in everything and purchasing nothing. Then, as the hour grew late and the hovering baubles began blinking out, Malfoy took Harry to a small nondescript café. There, he felt comfortable enough to push back his hood, and they shared a small meal of grilled pheasant strips that had been marinated in cranberry sauce. They drank steaming mugs of hot chocolate afterward, while Harry laughed and shared stories of when the infamous Weasley twins were once whole and imaginatively devious.

The Alley was fairly emptied when they finally left the café; most of the enchanted baubles had been doused. Malfoy gently tugged Harry into the shadows of one corner, his mouth tilting in a soft smirk as he motioned above their heads. He gave Harry only a second or two to absorb that they were standing under a sprig of mistletoe before pulling him close and claiming that ever-tempting mouth in a slow and tenderly thorough kiss.

Late that night, as Harry turned over in his sleep and settled closer within the circle of Malfoy's arms, the blond demon gave a saddened smile and kissed Harry's brow. He was not yet convinced that his gift would be accepted, or even successful. A few more days of this was all he could hope for.

12) _Shameless_ self-promoting!


	16. Sanity

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Sixteen - Sanity**

"Harry? You awake?"

Groaning, he rolled to his side and tugged the blankets over his head. A soft voice chuckled near his ear, and he felt the mattress shift under the extra weight beside him. "Sleep, then. I'm off to the Alley for a quick run. If I hurry, I should be back before you wake up."

Barely any noise preceded the door quietly clicking shut.

Long minutes later, Harry blinked his eyes open, stretching under the blankets before sitting up and grabbing his glasses off the bedside table. He found he was alone in the bed, remembered Malfoy's whispered words, and smiled. He showered, dressed, and then sat himself down in a comfortable chair with the original novella half of Dudley's gift.

When Malfoy at last returned, Harry had already gotten through the first three chapters. The protagonist, a young knight who had only recently been recruited into his brigade, suffered from a recurring dream that slowly grew in detail with each telling. Harry was getting intrigued as to where the dreams might lead.

When the blond saw his reluctance to set the book down, Malfoy only shook his head with a small smile as he shed his cloak and tossed it to another chair. "Go on, Harry. I've got nothing else planned for the day, and this holiday is really about you, anyway."

"About me?" Harry repeated, wondering. "What do you mean?"

The blond demon rested both hands to the chair's armrests and leaned close. "Harry," he murmured. "Until now, we've only stolen a few hours together at most, and even then we've had to be careful of our classmates finding out. Don't you realize what this holiday is for us?"

Harry's breath caught in his lungs, and his heart thumped painfully behind his ribs. "Another world…"

Malfoy sighed. "Not yet. But I intend to make it the best illusion possible." Shifting forward, he brushed his lips across Harry's in the barest touch before bringing their mouths together in a truer kiss. Yet it was a chaste kiss, however tender, and Malfoy soon pulled away. His mouth quirked in a slow smirk, "Go back to your book, Harry. You know I've got all the patience in the world when it comes to you. Besides," he added, smirk widening. Snatching the gift box from beside Harry's leg, he quickly backed away with it before the dark-haired youth could react. "With _this_ little spoiler alert, I think I'll be quite entertained."

Harry's eyes grew wide and disbelieving, and then narrowed dangerously. "You wouldn't dare."

Arching a slim pale eyebrow, Malfoy turned away and started toward the bed. "They'd probably edited the best bits, anyway. But no doubt I'll learn what happens before you do…"

"Why, you-!"

Malfoy tossed the gift box safely into a corner of the room, whirling around in time to catch two armfuls of a playfully outraged Gryffindor. Laughing, he allowed the force of their collision to drop them upon the bed behind him. Harry braced his hands atop Malfoy's chest and sat up, straddling the blond's waist. His dark green eyes promised retribution, while Malfoy's steely silver eyes grew liquid with mock innocence. "Now that you've got me here," the dark angel casually wondered, "what do you plan to do with me?"

Harry blinked, all thoughts of vengeance fleeing his mind. After a breath of silence, he bent low and stole a heated kiss. Malfoy responded immediately, opening his mouth to let Harry's tongue explore its slick caverns. A flush of heat rose up in his chest, and he left Malfoy's mouth to nip along the blond's jaw on his way to a cool and creamily pale throat. His hands smoothed down Malfoy's flat stomach, and only with the barest hesitance did they snake back up under the hem of Malfoy's shirt.

"Harry," Malfoy whispered, nearly groaning as he caught the other's wrists and held them still. "Harry, I was only teasing…"

The dark-haired wizard shook his head, shifting to nibble along the other side of Malfoy's neck. "Haven't you been thinking about this?"

"Have _you_?"

The other's sudden pause was answer enough. Biting back a tortured sigh, Malfoy angled his neck away and met Harry's gaze when the other finally lifted his head. He released one of Harry's wrists, instead lifting his hand to gently cradle the side of the dark-haired youth's jaw. "Harry… How far would you have made yourself go?"

Those dark green eyes glanced aside.

"You really would've given that much of yourself," Malfoy softly wondered. "For me?"

Harry nodded. And his sultry lips moved to whisper the words, "The freedom of surrender…"

A sudden thickness lodged itself in Malfoy's throat, and he found it very difficult to swallow. "You're right about one thing, Harry. I do want to share that kind of surrender with you." He paused, waiting until those eyes turned back to him before adding, "But if I do, I've got to know that you're right there with me. Wanting me, needing me as feverishly, as addictively, as I need you. This, here, that you were about to do… even for _my_ sake… would've been an ugly, hollow thing if it didn't mean as much to you as it would to me. Would you really want me to remember it that way?"

Harry bit at his lower lip, and he pushed himself upright. "No…"

Malfoy pushed up on his elbows, "Harry… I don't want us to have to look back on this day with regret. I want this holiday, and all of our memories together, to be worth keeping with us forever." He lifted his hand again to gently cup the back of the other's neck. "You know I would never want to hurt you, Harry. And I'm not rejecting you. But there are reasons I haven't asked that kind of surrender from you. The strongest being that, much as I want you, I would hate myself forever if I'd taken something from you that you weren't willing to give."

"But-"

"No," Malfoy gently insisted. "Please, Harry. You know I wouldn't lie to you to spare your feelings. Would it be asking too much that you return the favor?" With surprising ease, he lifted Harry off of his lap and set him down again upon the mattress. Standing, he turned, inwardly cursing himself for the hurt shimmering in Harry's eyes. He hid his own heartache with a small smile, "If it helps your ego any, I'll admit that resisting you just then was probably the hardest thing I've ever done. And that includes lying to the Death Eaters to protect your identity."**(13)**

"What if I did want it?"

He paused, "What?"

"If I hadn't hesitated," Harry clarified. "If I'd been thinking about it and really _knew_ I wanted you that way…"

Malfoy slowly nodded, understanding. "I would've trusted you to be sure, and I wouldn't have stopped you." He turned away once more, pointing his feet toward the bathroom and the cold shower his burning insides needed so desperately.

"Draco…"

He waited.

"If I think about it… _really_ think about it… Would you turn me down if I decided to try again?"

He closed his eyes, ignoring the uncertain stutter of his demon heart. "Please, Harry. Don't make me any promises." Before the other could argue, Malfoy stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

~o~

They finally arrived at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Though Kreacher greeted them warmly, neither Harry nor Malfoy could muster more than absent smiles for the house elf. Both had been very quiet since that morning, their minds playing and replaying the conversation that had presented a not-so-unexpected proposition. There was no tension between them, but once in a while one would catch the gaze of the other, and it was never difficult to guess that they were both thinking over the same thing.

That evening, Malfoy was standing alone in an empty room, his silver gaze raking over a large wall. Painted over it was the obvious depiction of a family tree - the Black Family Tree. He silently touched his fingers to his own name, hesitated a moment, then began tracing the connecting cords. Himself, his aunt and mother, his grandmother, then up again toward his deceased great-uncle and his sister. Great-aunt, three cousins, and then second-cousins Regulus and Sirius…

The blond felt his mouth tug in a small smile. The cord, which had changed colors to define how one relative connected to another, gleamed silver as it darted sideways and passed over a corner to an adjacent wall.

The only godchild in connection to the Black Family Tree. Harry Potter.

Harry's name was perched atop an outreaching branch of a newer, smaller tree. Malfoy followed its cords downward. Harry to Lily and James; Lily to her sister Petunia and their parents; Petunia to her husband and child… James to his parents; to aunts and uncles; to cousins and second-cousins…

It seemed a certain Gryffindor had spent a portion of his summer researching the Potter Family Tree. Not yet completed, of course, but that had not been for lack of trying.

"Mister Malfoy…"

Blinking, he turned his head to find Kreacher standing within the open doorway. The house elf bowed so low that his bat-like ears brushed the floor. "A moment's assistance, if you will, sir."

"What is it?" Malfoy wondered.

But Kreacher only motioned with his hand as he turned away. Vaguely curious, Malfoy politely followed the house elf along the corridor. Kreacher paused outside the door which led into the house's small library, pointing a finger at the door to indicate that Malfoy should go on through.

Malfoy entered the library. And he could not help a fond smile, despite the painful swelling within his chest, to find Harry asleep in a tall velvet chair. Harry had been especially dedicated to his book since that morning, and it was quite obvious he had fallen asleep trying to finish it. Sighing, Malfoy stepped forth and gathered the dark-haired wizard in his arms. Harry's book dropped to the chair, and Harry himself instinctively curled closer to Malfoy's chest. The swelling in Malfoy's chest grew, but he held Harry close as he turned toward the open door.

He stepped into the corridor and found Kreacher waiting for him midway up the stairs. Malfoy wordlessly followed after the house elf, letting himself be led along the second-floor corridor toward a door near its end. Kreacher stretched up to turn the door's knob, quietly kicking it open so that Malfoy could enter. Malfoy stared a moment at the many Gryffindor banners and old photographs covering the walls - some torn, others cracked, all of them aged.

Malfoy realized very swiftly whose room he had discovered. Only one member of the Black family had broken generations of Slytherin tradition and become a Gryffindor. This could only have been the room which had once belonged to Sirius Black.

His mouth tugged in a sudden smile, and he glanced down at the wizard in his arms. Of course. The house, the ring, the tenor of Harry's memories… Sirius Black had been the only true sense of "family" Harry had ever known. Having lost that, Harry kept close any reminder he could. It followed quite naturally that he would choose Sirius' old room for his own.

Malfoy stepped further into the room, carefully lowering Harry onto the bed. He removed Harry's shoes, quietly dropping them to the floor at the foot of the bed. Slipping his arm under Harry's knees, Malfoy lifted the covers away with his other hand, tucking Harry's legs beneath them and bringing the covers up over Harry's chest. He cupped the back of Harry's head, settling it more comfortably upon the pillows, and then gently removed Harry's glasses and set them atop a bedside stand.

Unable to help himself, he very lightly brushed his lips against Harry's in the merest kiss before straightening away. Turning, he found Kreacher patiently waiting for him by the door. "If Mister Malfoy wishes anything else of Kreacher…"

"Actually," Malfoy softly spoke up, stepping forth. "I didn't want to bother you, but I don't know this house enough to find a separate bedroom on my own. If you could help me, I'd appreciate it."

Kreacher's large eyes blinked, "S-separate, sir? But… you and Master Harry…"

Malfoy sighed, a swell of sadness lodging itself again in his throat. "I know." He shook his head, "Please, Kreacher. Don't ask me to explain."

Something akin to sympathy filled Kreacher's eyes, and the house elf gave a very low bow. "There is a spare room meant for guests down the hall. If Mister Malfoy will follow Kreacher…"

~o~

The next several days fell into a sort of pattern. Harry would sit in the library and read his book. Malfoy would wander the house a bit, but would invariably find his way back to that selfsame library, missing Harry's company. Harry never seemed reluctant to accept Malfoy's presence, even leaving his armchair so that they could sit together on the small stiff-backed sofa.

Malfoy's insides would always twist in an increasingly familiar way when this happened, though he never said anything as he held the quiet Gryffindor against him and pretended to read over Harry's shoulder.

~o~

Every night, Harry would fall asleep against him on that sofa. Malfoy would carry the dark-haired youth up to his room, and then himself retire alone into the spare bedroom down the corridor.

Late one night, however, as Malfoy stood before his window and watched the stars, a shift in the energies outside his borrowed room warned him that the pattern was about to be broken. Drawing in a slow breath to steel himself, he turned around just as his door was soundlessly opened.

There stood Harry, in a plain cotton tee and night pants, illuminated only by the soft moonlight streaming in through the window. His untamable dark hair was in further disarray; his glasses were missing, and his green eyes shone brilliantly - evidence that he had woken from a sound sleep. He paused in the doorway, almost as though in hesitation, but then he closed the door behind him and stepped further into the room.

Malfoy remained standing with his back to the window, hardly daring to breathe. When there was but an arm's length of space between them, Harry paused, and the look in his eyes was quietly curious.

"When you said there were reasons we never… What did you mean?"

The blond clenched his jaw, instantly understanding the question. "Harry…" When the other took a step closer, he shifted back, turning his gaze away. "Please, Harry. Don't ask me this…"

There was a brief pause, and then Harry slowly whispered, "It's Ginny, isn't it. You think I still want to go back to her."

Closing his silvered eyes at the very idea, he shook his head. "It's not that I think you'd want to…"

"Then what is it?"

"I can't-"

"Yes, you can," Harry insisted. A moment passed, and Malfoy was not surprised to feel the darker youth's hands lightly gripping his shoulders. "You promised never to lie to me to spare my feelings, remember?"

His eyebrows pinching together in a slight frown, the blond gave a small nod.

"So tell me."

Sighing, Malfoy opened his eyes and lifted his head to meet Harry's gaze. "Do you remember the stranger visiting our clearing that day? Koenma?"

Harry nodded, waiting.

"He's the son of the Spirit King. His father has records on everyone to have ever lived, including you and me. Apparently, the things _you_ lived through were enough to catch the Spirit King's special interest and he… peeked into your future."

Harry froze, staring. After another long moment, he released his hold on Malfoy to stumble back and away until the back of his knees his the side of the bed and he collapsed upon it. Malfoy followed after him, quietly sitting at Harry's side. When the dark-haired youth at last looked up, his green eyes were blank with lingering shock. "And… he saw me with Ginny?"

"Yes."

"But I don't want that," Harry argued on a whisper. "I-I want…"

He looked to Malfoy, and the blond's silvered eyes softened. Malfoy gave a small smile, "I know. I want that, too." But then he sighed, "On the other hand… it seems you will be able to give Ginny Weasley something vital that she will apparently not be able to find again without your help."

"What?" Harry demanded. "What could I possible give her that she couldn't find with someone else?"

"Her sanity."

13) HP7:DH - When the Death Eaters capture the Golden Trio and bring them to Malfoy manor, Draco Malfoy obviously recognizes Harry Potter, but pretends to have trouble seeing it when asked.


	17. Wherever You Go

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Seventeen - Wherever You Go**

Harry's mouth felt dry, and he flicked his tongue over his lips. "H-her…?"

"Sanity," Malfoy said again with a small nod, his silvered eyes watching him carefully. "Lord Koenma explained it to me. Without you, her grief for Fredrick Weasley will drag her down a quick descent into madness. Even Lockhart will appear sane by comparison. But if you were to return to her side… it would be a slow process, spanning over the years until she dies safe in her bed… But you would come to understand her as no one else could, and with you she could live a fairly normal life."

"So," he slowly tried to confirm, "I go back to her… because I have to? Out of guilt?"

"Because you must, yes. But not out of guilt." The blond reached over, closing his fingers around Harry's hand. "You'll return to her, because you still care enough for her that even now you must realize there can be no other choice."

A heavy silence fell over the room, as Harry seemed unable to argue the logic of his own morals. His hand in Malfoy's shifted, turning over to lace their fingers together. "But what about you?" He whispered. "I thought… maybe, you and I could…"

The blond's smile this time was saddened, and he leaned forth to catch Harry's lips in a tender, lingering kiss. Malfoy had kissed him this way several times before, as though afraid it might be the last. And finally Harry understood. Draco Malfoy must have known, even from the beginning, that what they had was not meant to last.

And yet the blond Slytherin cupped his free hand around the back of Harry's neck, gently drawing Harry over him as he fell slowly upon the bed. And then his kiss changed, from sorrowful acceptance to heartbroken rebellion, and Harry dragged in a sharp breath as he was gripped against the length of Malfoy's body.

"Harry," Malfoy rasped, slanting his mouth across the dark-haired Gryffindor's jaw to busy himself with Harry's throat. "I'm selfish enough to want to keep you to myself. And Lord Koenma told me of a way to make that possible…"

He dug his hands into the mattress, pushing slightly up to meet the blond's gaze. "But… you just said-"

"That the Spirit King has seen that you must return to Ginny Weasley," Malfoy nodded. "But, Harry… I'm a demon. If nothing happens to me, I can expect to live for a _very_ long time. I may not be the most patient man, but for you I could almost literally wait forever."

"You're not making sense," Harry argued, pushing back until he was straddling the other's thighs. "You're offering to sit around… _waiting_ for Ginny to-"

"No, of course I will wish for her to have a long and happy life," the blond assured, gently tugging Harry down atop his chest once more. "I'll wish for you to find every happiness with her that you possibly can. But I'm talking about _after_, Harry… After so many years of keeping me in the back of your mind where I won't trespass on your time with her… when you finally allow yourself to think of me…" He gave a soft smile, "That's when it could be _my_ turn to return to _you_."

Harry stared at him, slowly beginning to understand. "But… I-I'm human. Even if you did wait for me…"

"Did you never wonder why I called it a surrender?" Malfoy suddenly asked, his voice quiet and almost hesitant, and Harry knew immediately what the blond was talking about. "And never simply _your_ surrender, but mine as well? Some part of me must have known, even before Lord Koenma explained it to me." He paused, something untold flickering in those silvered eyes. "Harry… I can give you a piece of myself. Just a sliver, a trickle of my energy… Not enough to smother your magic, of course, but…"

"But, what?" Harry wondered when the blond hesitated again. "What would it do to me?"

"It would tie you to me," Malfoy confessed. "In every conceivable way."

"What?"

"I would… essentially… become part of you. Our senses would grow attuned to each other, so that even after we are apart, we would be able to feel one another in the back of our minds. My energy would whisper to you, convincing you of my well-being, and your soul would do the same for me. Very convenient, I suppose, but with a price if either of us is in pain. You can imagine." Malfoy lifted his hand, softly caressing the side of Harry's face before threading his fingers in the dark strands of the wizard's hair. And his silvered eyes filled with something else, something liquid and vulnerable as he locked his gaze upon the glass-green orbs staring down at him. "Harry… Do you love me? When all is said and done… _would_ you let me come back for you?"

Harry's heart missed a beat, and he caught his lower lip between his teeth. He thought back on their months together, and how he might feel if that were suddenly the end of it. His lungs tightened painfully behind his ribcage, giving him his answer.

"Yes."

Malfoy's eyes widened, and his face became the picture of hope. "Yes?"

"Yes," he said again, his mouth tugging in a sudden smile. "I love you, you prat. And you'd better mean what you said about coming back for me, or I _will_ find a way to hex through that new demon hide of yours."

The blond laughed, rolling them along the mattress until he had pinned Harry beneath him, and their mouths came together in a fiercely ardent kiss. Harry succumbed to Malfoy's tongue, letting it dominate the caverns of his mouth, only breaking away after a long minute to drag in a sharp breath. Malfoy let him breathe, an almost inaudible growl passing through the blond's lips as he nipped along the curve of Harry's throat.

"Harry," the _daraku tenshi_ rasped against his collarbone. "To do this… we'd have to…"

"Yes," he willingly answered, grasping the back of the blond's head and arching up to meet the heated body atop him. "I'm ready this time. I want it."

Malfoy gave another soft growl as he lightly nipped the top of Harry's shoulder through his tee, and his hands slid down Harry's sides before slipping up again under the tee's hem. His heated touch seemed to scorch Harry's flushed skin, and once the hem of his shirt had been pushed up toward the center of his chest, the blond demon shifted, lowering his head and marking the side of Harry's navel with a string of lovebites.

The dark-haired youth cried out, feeling his nerve-endings burn and tingle like tiny shocks of electricity wherever Malfoy's teeth descended. Clawing at the back of Malfoy's shirt, he tugged it up toward the blond's shoulders; Malfoy lifted away just long enough to allow the shirt to be pulled over his head before returning to feast on Harry's flesh. Harry's stomach quivered under the attention, and he tossed the shirt aside.

Setting his hands to Malfoy's arms, he lightly shoved. The blond paused, sitting back, and Harry squirmed and shifted until he had successfully tugged his own tee over his head, tossing it to the floor with the other. Malfoy's silvered eyes flashed hungrily as they raked over Harry's bared torso, and Harry tugged him back down.

Malfoy settled over him, pressing the length of their bodies together, and he began to shift his hips so that their groins ground into each other. Harry's heartbeat jumped and then picked up twofold as he felt the blond's arousal, and his breath hitched more than once as the sensation excited his own body to respond.

The blond demon smoothed his hand down Harry's side then slid it between their groins, palming Harry's arousal through his night pants and wrenching another cry from him. "Remember," Malfoy breathed against the other's mouth, even as his hand drove him to distraction. "For this to work, I'll have to feed you my energy."

"I know," Harry gasped, hips lifting to press himself closer to that heated touch. "I can take it."

"But… letting myself go like that… I don't know what will happen." His hand stilled, and he lifted his head to gaze searchingly into Harry's eyes. "Harry. I don't know what I might do."

Harry returned his gaze for a long minute, chest rising and falling in quick succession as he tried to catch his breath. But then he suddenly threw his hip up and rolled them over until Malfoy was the one pinned under him. Now straddling the blond's waist again, Harry bent low and captured Malfoy's mouth with his, before nipping along his jaw to catch the lobe of the blond's ear between his teeth. His hands wandered, memorizing the feel of Malfoy's body, the firm planes of the blond's chest and stomach… He kissed Malfoy again, slowly inviting his own tongue into that mouth even as his hand ventured into the blond's boxers.

~o~

Malfoy sucked in a sharp breath as Harry's fingers found and wrapped around him. He felt his energy spike and swim eagerly along his veins, filling him, readying itself… "Harry," he gasped, turning his head away and catching the dark-haired youth's wrist. "Wait…"

Harry lifted his head, glass-green eyes searching. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," he shook his head, not quite meeting the other's gaze. "Everything you're doing is perfect, but…" He motioned with his hand toward the nightstand; "C-could you reach into that drawer for me?"

There was a brief moment of stillness, but then he could feel the other shift a bit to reach the nightstand. When Harry settled again atop him, the blond risked a glance and saw that the dark-haired Gryffindor had found and was fisting an increasingly familiar strip of black cloth. He didn't need to see Harry's questioning stare; he could feel it.

"I don't understand," Harry murmured. "Why…?"

"Please. Tie it around my eyes."

The other's hesitation this time was only slightly more pronounced, but then Harry shifted again, and Malfoy closed his eyes as the cloth was brought down over them. He lifted his head, allowing Harry's hands room enough to knot it securely. Yet, afterward, Harry did not release him; instead, Malfoy found his lips the willing captives in a rather heated kiss.

"I know that you can see… _something_, through that blindfold," Harry breathed, resting his brow against Malfoy's. "But this is one time I really wish you could just see _me_…"

His senses finally returning to order, Malfoy watched as tiny wisps of silver swirled and righted themselves in the faint shimmering silhouette of a young stag. But then that image blurred into the whispered aura of a young man with startlingly clear green eyes, and the blond smiled. "Harry… I do see you. And I swear to you," he added, reaching up and gently raking his fingers through strands of silver-frosted black. "I won't be missing a thing. Not tonight. Not for anything in this world."

"Then… why…?"

"Because I want this to be about us, before I let my energy take over. The blindfold helps me keep it in check." Loosening his light grip around Harry's wrist, he slowly played his fingers up and down the dark-haired youth's forearm. "Please, Harry… Get back to what you were doing?"

~o~

His request was so soft-spoken and vulnerable, that Harry found it feeding his confidence. His mouth tugging in a small smile, he tilted his head and nuzzled Malfoy's ear, his hand continuing its exploration beneath the cover of the blond's boxers. Malfoy tossed his head back, sucking in a quick breath between his teeth; encouraged, Harry tasted the flesh of Malfoy's neck.

The demonic angel groaned low in his throat; "Gods, Harry, you're a natural…"

"Should you really be swearing at a time like this?" He teased, flicking his tongue over the flesh above Malfoy's collarbone before nibbling a trail toward the hollow of Malfoy's throat.

"I'm about to do a hell of a lot more, if you keep that up," the blond retorted, the barest whisper of a growl in his promise.

And yet, Harry was no longer afraid. Their predicted parting loomed in the back of his mind, and in Malfoy's too, he was sure. If this was to be their only chance to explore each other for years to come, then Harry would not allow it to be wasted on the fear and uncertainty that had held him back before.

"A lot more?" He repeated, his fingers flexing around the prize they had found. "How much more?" Lifting his head, Harry locked his gaze on the strip of black hiding the blond's eyes, knowing Malfoy was somehow looking back at him. "Draco… How much will you give me?"

"Gods, Harry," the young demon groaned again. "Just ask. I'll give you anything you want…"

He shifted, biting sharply at Malfoy's earlobe before whispering, "I want as much as you can show me."

Growling more than groaning this time, the blond rolled them both once more until Harry was again tucked under him. His boxers and Harry's night pants quickly joined their shirts on the floor; Malfoy lined their bodies flush against each other, kissing Harry, devouring his mouth while they shifted together, heightening each other's arousals to the point of torture.

He spoke the incantation of a wandless charm into Harry's ear, whispering for the dark-haired wizard to cast it upon himself. Harry did, catching his lower lip between his teeth three seconds later as he felt his muscles stretched and loosened. "Th-that was…?"

"A shortcut to getting you ready," Malfoy revealed, lifting his head with the barest smirk. Lifting slightly up on his knees, bringing his hand between them, he added, "Now it won't be so uncomfortable for you when I do this…"

And Harry sucked in a sharp hiss of breath as he felt the blond's finger circle the pucker of his entrance before slowly pushing in. The charm he had cast kept the sensation painless and without any feeling of invasion, and yet… he could feel Malfoy's finger inside him, massaging his inner muscles. It felt…

He moaned low in his throat, pushing himself down on that finger. It felt _incredible_…!

Malfoy's soft chuckle reached his ears, and he blinked his eyes open to find the blond's blindfolded gaze staring down at him with a small smirk of fond amusement. "Like that, did you," he hissed.

Harry felt his face and neck grow hot, but he nodded.

"More?"

"Yes," he groaned, lifting a hand to the back of Malfoy's neck, bringing him down for a demanding kiss.

The blond demon let Harry's tongue dominate his mouth; after another moment, Harry felt his insides stretched wider to accommodate a second finger. He felt the two fingers move inside his most secret of places, a pretext of what was to come. And then Malfoy pushed his hand against Harry, his fingers brushing against something that caused tiny sparks of white to explode behind the dark-haired youth's eyelids.

Harry broke their kiss, arching his neck and back with a sharp intake of breath. "W-what… was _that?_"

"Your prostate gland." The blond's murmured answer was muffled, as his mouth and teeth were somewhat busy tasting again the cove of Harry's neck. "Let me give it enough attention, and I could drive you mad."

"_Merlin_, I don't think I could take much more of that…"

Malfoy laughed quietly, lifting his head to nip at Harry's lip. "Does that mean you're ready for me?"

"Yes," he moaned. He hooked one leg over the back of the demon's calf, shifting once more against that hand.

The blond took the hint, withdrawing his hand and moving over him. Harry felt the tip of Malfoy's sex nudge against his pucker. And yet, Malfoy paused, sweeping his lips against Harry's one more time. "When I ask you to," he whispered. "I want you to take this blindfold off of me."

Harry stared, "A-are you sure…?"

"Yes. And whatever you do… whatever you see… Don't look away?"

There was that hint of vulnerability again… He took a breath, nodding. "I won't. I promise."

The _daraku tenshi_ gave another small smirk. Then he shifted, and Harry felt Malfoy's sex begin to fill his insides. Yet the charm was still in place, still active… He felt no pain at all, and very little discomfort. There was only the sensation of being stretched and filled, as Harry felt more and more of Malfoy enter into him.

At last, the blond paused. A thin bead of perspiration finally escaped his hairline and crawled down the side of his brow, before disappearing into the strip of black covering his eyes. His skin was flushed and hot, and the arms holding him up quivered just a little bit.

Harry bit his lip, shifting experimentally.

"Gods, Harry," Malfoy gasped, quickly catching one hand to his hip and holding him still. "N-not yet. Let the charm catch up to us…"

Before the Gryffindor could ask what he meant, his inside muscles suddenly grew very warm and relaxed, until he was given the feeling of being consumed from within by the delicious fire. And yet, instead of smothering it, Harry wanted only to stoke its flames to let its power wash over him. He shifted once more against the heated body hovering over him.

Either Malfoy understood that to mean the charm had kicked in, or else he could no longer wait, himself. Ducking his head into the cove of Harry's shoulder with a low growling groan, he slowly drew his hips back before thrusting them forth again.

Harry tossed his head back with a sharp gasp.

"Put your leg around me, Harry," Malfoy whispered very close to his ear.

Nodding, he lifted his leg from atop the blond's calf and slung it over the back of Malfoy's waist. Even so slight a change in position allowed the demonic angel to slip deeper into him, and Harry moaned through clenched teeth. He could feel the blond's head shift against his neck and shoulder, could feel the other's mouth and tongue kiss away the sweat that must have been gathering there.

And then Malfoy began to move, and the fire in Harry's deepest caverns was stoked to the point of sweet torture. Soon he was rocking faster, pushing harder, and Harry found himself urging him every instant, asking, begging for more. And the fire consumed them both.

Suddenly Malfoy reared back on his knees, pulling Harry up with him so that the dark-haired youth straddled his waist. And Harry stared as the blond's form wavered and shifted into his true demon self, silver markings and feathery white wings gleaming under the moonlight streaming from the window.

"Now," he pleaded on a thick, emotional whisper. "_Now_, Harry…"

So Harry quickly reached up and tugged the strip of black from around the blond's head, and he met Malfoy's gaze. And the _daraku tenshi_'s silver eyes stared back at him, glowing bright as white-hot steel from behind errant strands of gold. Harry's world dissolved in black, until he only knew the transfixing look of those eyes, and the feel of Malfoy moving almost desperately now inside him.

Even had he not given his word, Harry could not look away. And then he felt something different, something cool and ethereal, which filled every fiber of his being and warred with the fire of their actions. For one very brief instant, he thought he felt wings unfurl from between his own shoulder blades… but then the notion was forgotten, and he cried out as he felt Malfoy's seed wash up inside him, which in turn wrenched from him his own completion.

He must have blacked out, for when next he became aware, he was resting against Malfoy's chest, his head cradled against the blond demon's shoulder… He could feel something wet and warm drip onto the side of his brow, as Malfoy whispered thickly, "I'm a part of you now, Harry. Now you can take me with you, wherever you go…"


	18. Hiding Out

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Eighteen - Hiding Out**

_(Christmas Morning…)_

The door swung open, and an elderly woman with soft brown eyes gave a happy smile. "Oh… Suuichi…"

Kurama - his human guise aged appropriately - dropped his bag to the doorstep and came forth to gently take the woman in his arms. He kissed her hair and cradled her close. "Merry Christmas, mother."

~o~

"Yukina."

A blue-haired demoness with wine-red eyes looked up, and her soft pink lips spread in a smile of welcome. She glided quite gracefully down the temple steps, despite that they were coated with ice. "Hiei-_san_, what a surprise. Are you here for the holiday?"

The darker demon gave a slow smirk, his own fiery eyes secretly absorbing the sight of his sister, committing it to memory alongside countless others. "I think I can be bothered to stay one night…"

~o~

Yusuke wrapped his arms around Koenma from behind, silently resting his chin atop the young deity's shoulder. Koenma's smile was sad, but genuine, as he lightly brushed a bit of snow from the letters carved intricately along the side of the white marble tomb. "Merry Christmas, Albus…"

"Yeah," Yusuke added. "Happy wishes, old man."

~o~

Malfoy eased himself to the rug behind Harry, gently tugging the dark-haired youth back against his chest as he moved an arm around to reveal that he held a small box in his hand. "Happy Christmas, Harry."

The other turned his head, green eyes staring. "You… You got me something?"

He stole a quick kiss. "It will be our only Christmas together for years to come," he reminded. "I couldn't resist."

As Harry turned back around, Malfoy felt his lover's chest and back expand with a great breath, and he reined in a quick smirk. He did not like that Harry's childhood had left the Gryffindor without the joyful anticipation this holiday brought for others, but he enjoyed the look of surprise Harry seemed never without when receiving gifts.

Harry took the box, carefully turning it over in brief inspection, before his curiosity won out and he lifted the lid. Inside was a jeweler's gift box of black velveteen, and he recognized the symbol of one of Diagon Alley's more expensive shops. He slid this box into his palm, but did not open it right away. "Draco…"

"It's nothing too conspicuous," the blond softly assured. "You can even wear it in the Muggle world without drawing suspicion."

The lid was hinged, of course, and Harry's fingers looked a little unsteady as they slowly opened the velveteen box. Nestled quite innocently atop a satiny white pillow was a large silver locket, its shape a flattened oval, its front detailed very finely with the image of a phoenix in flight. Malfoy's eyes shifted slightly up, his attention caught by the movement of his lover's throat as Harry swallowed a deep breath. "Th-thank you…"

"You haven't even found the best part," Malfoy whispered, nuzzling the flesh behind the dark-haired youth's ear. "Open it."

Lifting the locket out of its box, Harry searched until his fingers found its hidden release. The locket popped open. Malfoy could only see its empty interior, gleaming silver with white-gold carved in swirls into its inner surface. But he watched Harry's face carefully, knowing by his lover's expression the exact moment the locket's magic began. Harry's glass-green eyes grew wide, and then narrowed in attempt to hold back the tears that were suddenly shimmering in their recesses. Harry bit his lip, hard enough to give Malfoy a slight fear of bruising later. "Phoenix song…"

Malfoy wrapped his harms around Harry's middle, pulling him close, and he whispered again near his lover's ear. "I can't hear it. No one can but you, Harry. Its jeweler handled it with gloves as it was made, because the locket is charmed to sing only for the first to touch it." Sighing, he rested his chin atop Harry's shoulder. "I'm already swearing to myself to find us a world where we might one day disappear together. Maybe… Maybe I'll find Dumbledore's phoenix, while I'm at it."

~o~

_(January…)_

Harry slouched back against his compartment seat as he waited for the Hogwarts train to prepare for its return journey. Esmiril, whom he had yet to uncage, was pecking irritably at the lock to be released. But Harry only slipped in a stick of dried meat Kreacher had packed for him; he knew he couldn't let the golden sparrow hawk out the window to fly until the train had entered open country.

The compartment door slid open, and Ron Weasley let himself in. "Hey, Harry. Happy Christmas and New Year, mate."

"You too," he answered. He watched with a small smile as the redhead widely avoided Esmiril's cage on his way to the opposite seat. "How's Hermione?"

"Well, according to her mother and mine," Ron smirked, "she's glowing. The Healer estimates the due date to be in about fifty days, and there's no sign at all that she'll have any trouble."

"That's great!" Harry's smile grew; "Bet you're bouncing off the walls, eh?"

The other rolled his eyes, "Right. I think I must still be in shock or something, because I don't feel all that nervous about it. Guess it'll take the baby arriving for me to come to ground. Then I'll really start to lose it…"

He laughed.

Ron shrugged, still smirking. But then his expression slowly sobered, and he casually commented, "I didn't see Malfoy in any of the other compartments. Think he even went home?"

Harry hesitated a moment. He had promised months ago to keep his and Malfoy's relationship a secret for as long as the blond needed - which in hindsight was probably for the best, when considering the future looming over them. But he didn't want to have to lie to his best friend. "Probably not," he hedged, turning his head to gaze out the window. "I heard his family home was the site of one of those Death Eater ambushes this summer. He probably felt skittish about returning there just yet…"

"Yeah," Ron accepted. "Guess I can't blame him. I mean, coming home to something like that wouldn't exactly be on my Christmas list, either."

"He might go back, someday," Harry added, almost to himself. "Once he decides he'd done with waiting."

They both grew quiet for a few minutes, during which time the train jerked around them and slowly began to move. Harry contented himself with watching the station slip away outside his window.

After another long minute or two, Ron spoke again. "Do you suppose he had anywhere else to go to? That he might've had to stay behind at Hogwarts?"

"Ron," Harry sighed, "if you're starting…"

"I'm not," the redhead quickly denied. "I just… Well, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I guess I'm feeling sorry for the arse. Anyway," he shrugged, standing. "I have rounds to make, and the other prefects and I have to divvy up Hermione's duties so there won't be any slack… So, I'll see you in the Tower, Harry."

"Yeah, sure," he nodded, absently, his mind already drifting to other thoughts. But then one thought in particular caught up with him, and he turned his head. "Ron, wait."

The redhead, having already stepped into the corridor, poked his head back in again. "Yeah?"

"How's…" Harry swallowed, "I-I mean, is…?"

Ron seemed to understand instantly, and took pity on him. "Ginny's fine, mate. A little off-center, some days, and she barely talks anymore, but she'll make it. No worries." The compartment door slid shut behind him.

Harry sat in silence for a handful of minutes. When Esmiril pecked again at the cage's lock, he let the golden bird loose and slid the window open so that Esmiril could follow the train in the skies. Closing the window again, he peered out at the blue of rushing trees and endless fields. Then he lifted his gaze to the skies, to the clouds which seemed to pass by so much more slowly.

He knew that Malfoy was up there, somewhere, easily keeping pace with the train, but he also knew he would not be allowed the chance to seek out the _daraku tenshi_ until that night, when he would have opportunity to sneak into the Forest.

And then, as though in answer to his tiny bit of sulking, he felt something cool brush against the back of his mind:

_If you're really so lonely for me, you only had to say so…_

He started, pressing his brow to the window glass to peer higher up toward the skies. _Draco!_

Malfoy's voice chuckled softly, yet very clearly, as though just near his ear. _There's no need to shout, Harry; I can hear you just fine. I only wanted to remind you of the benefits of our bond. Stretch your mind as far as you wish; you will always be able to find me._

_How… How far up are you right now?_

_Little more than a mile above you,_ the blond demon mused thoughtfully. _I've never tracked a moving target for this long, so I'm resisting the temptation to fly much higher._

Harry sat back in his seat, closing his eyes with a sigh; _I wish I was up there with you…_

_That's the beauty of it, Harry._ His mind was filled with a very clear glimpse of the Hogwarts Express from far above, winding its way around a large hill, before a stream of wispy low-hanging clouds passed between them and interrupted the vision. _You are._

Anyone glancing into his compartment for the rest of the ride would have thought Harry had fallen asleep. But, in fact, he was enjoying vision after vision of a tranquil, carefree flight amongst the clouds… set to the occasional sounds of Malfoy's relaxed laugher at how easily their minds melded together.

~o~

The first Monday back was a day free of classes.

Harry let his Gryffindor roommates dominate his morning, asking about their holiday, and giving a few roundabout answers of his own. After lunch, however, he excused himself and wandered toward another part of the castle. It did not take long at all for his feet to lead him to the door to Urameshi's office. He knocked.

After a minute or two, the door opened to reveal George Weasley standing on the other side. "Harry, you rascal," the younger Defense professor greeted with a cheeky grin. "A little eager, aren't we? Or did you forget that today's a free day."

Harry blinked, quickly recovering himself. "I didn't forget. But what are you doing here?"

"Studying," George shrugged with a barely masked grimace. "I'll be taking over Urameshi's classes next year, as well as my own, so he's given me mountains of material to learn so I'll know what the bloody hell I'm talking about."

Harry couldn't even pretend to be surprised. It was not difficult for him to guess what was going on. Urameshi had once mentioned that his position at Hogwarts had only been in repayment of a favor, and a few unmentioned debts. Harry had taken that to mean that Urameshi's presence there was to be temporary.

"Is Urameshi in there with you?"

"Nah, he's in the Forest with his demon pals," replied George. "Said something about giving me peace and quiet to catch myself up, but I think they're just more comfortable out there. You know, with all those creatures and jinxed areas… Probably makes them feel right at home."

Nodding, Harry turned away and retraced his steps along the corridor.

Once outside the castle, he cut a path straight for the forest. Almost immediately after he stepped amongst the first of the trees, arms wrapped around his middle and lifted him from the ground. He was set quite gently atop a branch several feet up, then pulled against a cool chest; Harry looked over his shoulder into laughing silver eyes.

"You just can't stay away from me, can you," Malfoy smirked, a trace of his former arrogance in the quirk of his lips.

"According to you, and the constant hum in my head," Harry retorted, "getting away from you would be close to impossible."

"Ah, but you're famous for achieving just that, aren't you."

Harry drove his elbow back, lightly connecting it with the blond's ribs. "Let me down."

"No, I don't think I will," Malfoy chuckled. "I quite like having you at my mercy…"

"Then shackle him up and bring him with you," laughed another voice from the ground below. They both looked down to find Urameshi standing beneath their tree. He was again in his human form, looking rather tame when compared to his demon self even with a wide grin and haughty humor in his dark eyes. "We're not done talkin', and Hiei wants to check your defenses again."

Harry felt Malfoy's quiet sigh against his back, and he glanced again over his shoulder. "Defenses?"

"Here." The blond demon slipped an arm from around Harry's middle to tap at his brow. "I marked you with my energy, Harry. But I'm not exactly an experienced demon, so Hiei will be checking to be certain I didn't overdo it."

Harry did not quite understand, but he nodded anyway. Malfoy wrapped his arms again around Harry's middle, embracing the dark-haired Gryffindor close to his chest, and he tugged them both to the side. They fell, and before Harry could even think to close his eyes they had landed softly but firmly on the ground below. He blinked, turning his head again to stare over his shoulder. "How'd you do that?"

Malfoy smirked.

They followed Urameshi deeper into the Forest, coming out again in the clearing they had used so often over the year. Hiei was indeed waiting for them, perched upon a low-hanging branch as was his habit. Jasper was there as well, the sunlight gleaming through the branches above and reflecting off the snow giving his skin a faint shimmer, as though his flesh was inlaid with sparkling clear-cut diamonds.

To the side stood the blue-and-red robed Koenma, who seemed to be quietly chatting with someone Harry didn't recognize right away. This last was a tall redhead, whose long hair fell behind his shoulders and into eyes of a purer shade of green than his own. He wore Japanese-style clothing, and spoke with a soft, unassuming intellect that left Harry impressed and curious. He turned to smile at Harry, but it wasn't until he spoke that the dark-haired Gryffindor finally felt as though he knew this one.

"Hello again, Harry," the redhead greeted with a low, quiet chuckle.

He blinked, staring; he ventured an impossible guess. "_K-Kurama_…?"

"Suuichi Minamino," the other introduced himself, stepping forward to shake Harry's hand. Yet there was a gleam in his eyes, and a corner of his mouth quirked as though barely reining in his amusement.

Such restraint seemed foreign to Urameshi, who whipped his head back and let out a sharp bark of a laugh. Koenma rolled his eyes, though with a patiently bemused smile; Jasper tossed a quick smirk to Malfoy, who seemed to be biting back a grin of his own.

"What you see is my human form," the redhead finally revealed to Harry. "Though the explanation is long and somewhat involved, suffice to say that acquiring one of my own had been necessary some years back, and now I find myself reluctant to give it up for another decade or two."

"Don't worry," Urameshi added around another snicker. "He'll be all silvery and shiny again in time for classes tomorrow."

Harry nodded, not quite understanding, but knowing it wasn't really his business to.

"Draco," Hiei spoke up, dropping easily from his branch to the ground below. "Let me see into you."

"Can't you do it from over there," the blond suggested, albeit somewhat hopelessly, as though he already knew the answer.

Hiei's fiery red eyes flashed in warning.

Sighing, Malfoy pecked a quick kiss to the side of Harry's head and drew his arms from around the Gryffindor's waist, turning away and approaching the darker demon. Harry stayed where he was and watched as Jasper quickly stepped to his nephew's side. The vampire passed to Malfoy a strip of black cloth, which Harry immediately recognized, and wordlessly rested his hands upon Malfoy's shoulders as the younger blond blindfolded himself with a practiced ease. Hiei nodded with satisfaction after he had done, reaching up to tug loose his own head cloth and uncover his third eye.

The tension in the air seemed to thicken and weigh heavily on the shoulders of everyone watching. Even Harry felt the world grow strangely still, as though it too awaited Hiei's decision - which he almost suspected to be true.

But then Jasper suddenly closed his eyes and turned his head away. Harry stared, slowly turning about as Kurama, Urameshi, and Lord Koenma each copied the vampire's move. Quickly glancing again toward the blond across the clearing, Harry felt his heart thud against his ribcage and, biting his lip, he at last followed suit. His world drowned in black and the heightened sounds of the others' relaxed breathing. The tension around them thickened even further, so that Harry could almost taste it as he breathed it in.

What he suddenly could _not_ feel was the muted hum of Malfoy's energy in the back of his mind, and that unnerved him more than anything.

After an uncomfortable handful of minutes, he could feel the tension lifting from the clearing, seconds before a hand fell to his shoulder. He blinked his eyes open and looked up; the red-haired Kurama offered him a kind smile. Glancing around, he could see the others had relaxed and opened their eyes as well. And then his gaze settled on Malfoy.

The blond lifted his head and turned around, blindfolded gaze unerringly zeroing in on Harry. His mouth tugged in a crooked smirk, and Harry's mind was instantly filled again with the comforting hum of the _daraku tenshi_'s presence. He crossed the clearing, his gait confident and just a little bit cocky. Harry knew without needing to be told that all must be well.

Pulling Harry into his arms, he kissed him boldly and thoroughly, much to the fond amusement of their audience. He then lifted his head away and gave another smug smirk. "Miss me?"

~o~

In the weeks that followed, there was much to speculate about within the halls of Hogwarts. Curiosity grew among the seventh years, as all anticipated the demonstration promised by Professor Urameshi. They wondered if it was to be between Urameshi's demon friends, or whether the professor himself would be involved.

The seventh years also wondered at the prolonged absence of Draco Malfoy, who even then had yet to return from his holiday. Rumors circulated, observing that perhaps Death Eaters were involved. Whether this meant that he had been recruited for some last-ditch effort to regain their forces and overthrow the Ministry, or that he had at last been killed for betraying their Dark Lord (the truth of which the majority still doubted), was virtually a coin toss.

Harry barely contained a grin at hearing of these speculations, glad that no one thought to follow him each evening into the Forbidden Forest, where the very subject of their discussions was hiding out.


	19. Steely Silver Eyes

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Chapter Nineteen - Steely Silver Eyes**

The day of the demonstration came at last. It fell on an unusually warm afternoon in February. The Gryffindors and the Slytherins received a notice in their common rooms to report outside Hagrid's hut for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Hagrid, himself, was absent. Urameshi was already awaiting their arrival, sitting on the hut's front step, back leaning against the door with his knee drawn up, foot propped upon the step itself. The hood of his cloak was thrown over his head, casting an eerie shadow across the top half of his face, but unable to hide his fanged smirk.

"Right," he began when he saw that everyone had arrived. "Let's play a quick game before we get started." His smirk widened, "How many think they can guess who'll be giving this demonstration?"

Harry watched as his classmates glanced at each other, and as a small number of hands slowly went up. He clenched his jaw, biting back his amusement. He'd heard the rumors and speculations; most weren't anywhere _near_ the mark.

"Aww," Urameshi lamented, the fanged smirk below the shadow of his hood belying the disappointment in his voice. "That's all?"

A long moment passed, before three more hands reluctantly added themselves to the count. The tattooed professor chuckled lowly under his breath, shaking his head. "So much for doin' your homework," he muttered mockingly, and the hands went down. "Why don't we get a take on where everyone stands. Who's willing to bet it's Kurama?"

A small show of hands.

"Hiei?"

Even fewer votes.

Urameshi's smirk grew extremely feral, and Harry realized why as the tattooed professor surmised, "So the rest of you think it's gotta be me, do you?"

Nearly a dozen hands went up at that, even some few that had already cast their votes, along with one or two from those who had claimed not to have a guess in the first place.

"Well, you're all _dead wrong_."

The hands dropped again, and the students began murmuring to one another somewhat obviously at that. Harry bit at his lip to keep from laughing aloud; he really was enjoying his classmates' chocked reactions, full too much. And if he was to guess by the older man's half-hidden expression, Urameshi was having his fun as well.

The tattooed professor waited out his students' surprise, letting them quiet themselves in their own time. He had that luxury; his was the last class of the day, after all. Once he was certain he had their attention again, he turned his head pointedly, seeming to wait for something.

Harry fought against the small tug at the corner of his lips, as he and the rest of the class watched a tall blond "stranger" step out from around the hut. His hair fell in short and wild waves over eyes of liquid topaz. Wearing slim black slacks and a loose white button-down, this man was lean and seemed to move with the practiced leonine grace of someone who understood his own faults and accepted his underlying worth.

The blond approached the front of the hut, and Urameshi straightened to his feet. "Meet Jasper Whitlock," the tattooed professor announced in introduction. "You don't need to know what he does, or how I know him, just that he's a friend and he's here as a favor."

"Yes, Urameshi," Harry innocently responded with the rest of his classmates.

"And now to get our demon," he smirked, turning and leading toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest. His students began murmuring anew with wonder and increasing unease, the closer they approached the Forest's ominous trees. When Urameshi finally motioned for everyone to stop, there was still a safe stretch of grass between them and the Forest, but some few still shifted nervously and glanced about at one another.

Urameshi threw back the hood of his cloak, a dark gleam in his fierce brown eyes as he lifted two fingers to his mouth a gave a sharp whistle.

For a long moment, nothing happened. But then a sheen of silver drew upon everyone's gaze, as Kurama slowly backed out of the shadows of the Forest. In his hands was a thorned whip, which he held taut, using it to tug at its captive's wrists as he took another very slow handful of steps backward. Hiei came out from amongst the trees as well, his sword drawn, his fiery red eyes intense and piercing and focused entirely on the pale anomaly half-heartedly resisting the tug of Kurama's whip.

Urameshi's students whispered in mixed fear and awe, and it appeared none could look away. Harry really couldn't blame them; he remembered _his_ first time seeing this particular demon. Pale alabaster skin covered only in loose white slacks that had been belted with a rope of twine, a thin collar of black leather embracing the base of a slim throat… silvery runes tattooed into his right bicep and across his brow, golden blond hair falling in feathery windblown strands over eyes that had been blindfolded with a thick strip of black cloth… The demon gave another random tug at the whip knotted around his wrists, and some of the students gasped aloud as the movement drew attention to the white-feathered wings that seemed almost to glow with their own ethereal luminosity.

Harry had to admit, even if only to himself: Draco Malfoy always _had_ known how to make an entrance.

As though reading his mind, Urameshi caught his eye, and the tattooed professor's mouth quirked in a knowing smirk.

When they had finally put some space between the trees and themselves, the three demons paused. Kurama and Hiei were ever watchful of Malfoy, whose stance remained tense even as his head tilted just slightly in cautious curiosity - very convincing in his role as their 'captive.'

Jasper stepped around Urameshi and came forth. Malfoy flinched, blindfolded gaze seeming to zero in on the very subtle sound of his footfalls in the grass. Now that it seemed the winged demon had picked his target, Kurama unknotted the whip from around his wrists, and both Hiei and the silvered fox backed carefully out of the way. Malfoy crouched slowly forward, his wings almost unconsciously unfurling from behind his back, and he cocked his head from one side to the other, as though his sight was truly blinded by the strip of cloth tied over them.

Jasper paused for a long moment, before purposefully stepping on a large twig, the piece of wood snapping quite loudly under his shoe. Malfoy's head turned sharply in the vampire's direction, and the younger blond cautiously took a single step forward. Some cue seemed to be given, then, for Jasper broke out in a run at the same time as the _daraku tenshi_ - both demon and "human" racing headlong toward each other.

Though Jasper restricted himself to purely human limitations, and though Malfoy and he had choreographed and rehearsed the fight for several days in their clearing, it was still an impressive sight to watch. Harry found himself caught up in their performance. The dark-haired Gryffindor's breath caught in his throat when Malfoy accepted a barely reined-in blow to the stomach, and he fought a wince when Jasper was thrown and pinned to the ground.

Finally, the pseudo-battle ended. Malfoy stalked over to where Jasper had "fallen," crouching over the older blond and roughly gripping him around the back of his neck. Jasper winced theatrically as the demon yanked up with his hand, dragging Jasper to his knees, while Malfoy leaned in close, his other hand poised as though to strike. A low growl rose up in the sudden silence, a sort of panting breath, as though a wild animal was fighting for air. And the witnessing students, still some safe distance away, could never guess - or, indeed, believe - that it was not the winged demon struggling to maintain his composure.

Urameshi made a show of signaling to Hiei and Kurama, who quickly moved forth. Malfoy was grabbed by the arms, and then "forcibly" dragged back and away from Jasper, who pretended quite convincingly to struggle to his feet.

Harry's eyes darted over to Malfoy. And though the blond demon did not turn his head, did not tilt his blindfolded gaze in any particular direction, Harry still felt a familiar brush against his mind, and a silent reassurance toward Malfoy's wellbeing.

"So," Urameshi addressed his class with a dangerous smirk. "Any questions?"

~o~

The remainder of the semester passed in somewhat a blur, and soon Harry found himself preparing to pack his belongings for the last time. He spent most nights in the Gryffindor common room, staring into the hearth, reminiscing on the many memories of his years at Hogwarts. Nostalgia seemed to be a constant companion.

His friends and dorm mates also seemed to be trying to come to terms with what felt like the end of an era. Conversations were soft and hesitant, and sentences tended to wither away half-spoken. Companionable silences were shared more often; casual hugs were gripped tighter and lasted longer. No one seemed ready, or brave enough, to take that final step and say goodbye.

On the last night before departure, Harry snuck out of the castle. His steps were swift and sure, leading him toward the Forest as though with a sense of returning home. Six pairs of eyes lifted up as he stepped into the now all-too familiar clearing. Urameshi's smirk lost some of its mockery, and Hiei's customary scowl grew far less determined; Kurama and Lord Koenma each offered a sad, knowing smile. The three demons and one demigod fled the clearing. Jasper lingered a moment, squeezing Malfoy's shoulder, before he too flitted into the shadows.

Steely silver eyes met and held green, and a flood of warmth embraced Harry's mind, tinged with longing and sadness and just about a dozen other emotions that caused the dark-haired youth's eyes to sting. When Malfoy opened his arms, Harry did not hesitate. He quickly invited himself into the blond's embrace, and they met in a hungry kiss that tasted of desperation. Mouths tasted, hands explored and dedicated to memory.

When Malfoy reached into his pocket, Harry caught his wrist. He shook his head. Swallowing thickly, the _daraku tenshi_ nodded and brought his hand away empty.

Some minutes later, the dark of the night was interrupted quite boldly when the clearing ignited in soundless explosion of white light.

~o~

The next day, Ron Weasley tapped on the glass of Harry's compartment door as he waited for the train to make ready. "Can I come in for a minute?"

He nodded.

The redhead slid the door shut behind him and sat on the opposite bench. "You seemed quiet this morning, so I thought you might need a friendly ear. Something wrong?"

Harry shook his head, managing a small smile. "Just wondering where to go from here."

"I hear you," Ron nodded sagely. "With Hermione and the baby to think about, I've really been stressing about getting a job. So far, the best bet I got is with Gringotts. Bill's putting in a good word for me, but I'd still have to apply. Routine, and all that."

"You'll get it," he assured. "You did really well this year; your credentials should be your highest yet."

The redhead rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, but there was the hint of a smile on his face at the vote of confidence. "And you? I suppose you're not thinking to join the Aurors anymore. Probably had enough of that kind of thing."

"I'll be glad to stay away from all that for the rest of my life."

Understanding settled quietly between them for a moment, before Ron wondered, "So? What're you going to do, then?"

Harry shrugged, not at all worried about his immediate future. "Maybe disappear again for a little while; I don't know. I'm not in any hurry."

"You'll get around to stopping by for a visit once in while, though, right?"

"Sure, Ron. Eventually." He let his mouth tug in a truer smile, "I'm not about to forget my best friend and his family. Just don't bombard me with owls if I happen to take a while getting around to it."

"Deal."

Several minutes later, after Ron had gone and the train had at last started off for the long trip to Muggle civilization, a sudden tapping against glass drew Harry's attention to the window. It was Esmiril, easily keeping up with the train. A rolled parchment was grasped delicately in its talons. Harry opened the window.

The golden sparrow hawk flew in, immediately dropping the parchment to his lap before perching atop an overhead rack to stare at Harry with an almost curious light in its wise amber eyes.

Shaking his head, Harry carefully slid the black ribbon from around the parchment and unrolled it, his heart squeezing painfully as he recognized the handwriting.

"_Dear Harry,"_ it read…

"_It occurs to me that I have committed the most grievous sin of my existence. In all our time together, I have somehow neglected to confess one very simple truth._

"_I love you, Harry. And I swear to keep my word. When all is said and done, I __will__ come for you._

"_Now… Put me in the back of your mind. Go back to her, Harry. Share your heart with her, let her make you happy. I swear to have your future. Let her be your present._

"_Draco."_

Harry rolled the parchment, tying the black ribbon around it once more. His hand slid to the side of his leg, still loosely gripping the letter, and he tipped his head back against the seat. He dozed off into a light sleep, the letter still held protectively in his hand, tears stinging behind his closed eyelids.

He dreamt of flight, glowing white wings, and steely silver eyes…


	20. Epilogue

**Title:** On the Wings of Redemption

**By:** Aina Song

**Fandom(s):** Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

**Genre:** Yaoi

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning(s):** Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

**Pairing(s):** Yeah, like that's not obvious.

**Reviews:** Yes, please! For the love of God, _someone_ give me a cookie!

**Author's Note:** Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from _Twilight_.

**Another Note:** This story, unbelievably, took me little over _two years_ to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

**Teaser:** Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

**Epilogue**

_(Eighteen Years Later…)_

The Potters emerged onto platform nine and three-quarters, which was obscured by thick white steam that was pouring from the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures were swarming through the mist into which young James Potter already disappeared.

"Where are they?" Little Albus asked anxiously, peering at the hazy forms they passed as they made their way down the platform.

"We'll find them," said Ginny reassuringly. But the vapor was dense, and it was difficult to make out anybody's faces. Detached from their owners, voices sounded unnaturally loud. The pretty redhead subtly bit at her lip, her hands gripping the shoulder strap of her purse to still their sudden trembling. She fought down a sudden urge to flee.

A gentle hand rested at the small of her back, and warm lips kissed the side of her head. Her nerves calming somewhat, she looked up and met the understanding look in the dark emerald eyes of her husband.

Harry Potter smiled encouragingly.

"Oh," Albus gasped, drawing the attention of his parents.

A group of four people emerged from the mist, standing alongside the very last carriage. Their faces only came into focus when Harry, Ginny, Albus, and their daughter Lily had drawn right up to them.

"Hi," said Albus, sounding immensely relieved.

Rose Weasley, who was already wearing her brand new Hogwarts robes, beamed at him.

"Parked all right, then?" Ronald Weasley asked Harry. "I did. Hermione didn't believe I could pass a Muggle driving test, did you? She thought I'd have to Confund the examiner."

"No, I didn't," his wife protested. "I had complete faith in you."

"As a matter of fact, I _did_ Confund him," the other whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Albus' trunk and owl onto the train. "I only forgot to look in the wing mirror, and let's face it, I can use a Supersensory Charm for that."

Back on the platform, they found Lily and Hugo, Rose's younger brother, having an animated discussion about which House they would be sorted into when they finally went to Hogwarts.

"If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you," said Ron. "But no pressure."

"_Ron!_"

Lily and Hugo laughed, but Albus and Rose looked solemn.

"He doesn't mean it," both their mothers comforted, but Ron was no longer paying attention. Catching Harry's eye, he nodded covertly to a point some fifty yards away. The steam had thinned for a moment, and three people stood in sharp relief against the shifting mist.

"Look who it is."

Jasper Hale had written to Harry once or twice over the years, but even that could not have prepared him for seeing the blond demon again.

Draco Malfoy stood proud and confident, the very picture of aristocracy with a dark coat buttoned up to his throat. His white-blond hair had taken on an almost silvery sheen, and the lines of his face were harder, more angular. An illusion of age, Harry knew. But the man was not alone. Standing to his side, almost as tall as he, was a woman whose classic beauty was apparent even from where Harry was standing. Her long honey-blonde hair fell behind her back, and even the mist could not hide the golden-amber sheen of her eyes.**(14)**

Malfoy's head turned almost suddenly. His steely silver eyes landed on Harry, and the darker-haired man felt himself instantly awash in a wave of warmth and a love more powerful than words could ever define. Malfoy let his gaze wander away the next moment, and the feeling fled with it, even as the memory of it lingered like a whisper in Harry's heart.

Harry dropped his own gaze to the boy at Malfoy's side, distracting himself with picking out small details. Jasper's letters had also mentioned this child, who was in truth a very young demon half-breed the family of vampires had adopted into their number for Malfoy's sake. A soul needing the love, support, and protection that Draco Malfoy had more than enough to offer.

"So that's little Scorpius," Ron muttered under his breath, breaking Harry's train of thought. "Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

"Ron, for heaven's sake," said Hermione, half-stern, half-amused. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"

Harry sighed, his mouth tugging in a small smile as he paid better attention to his family and friends and let Malfoy slip again to the back of his mind.

~o~

Late that night, a small sound whispered Harry from a sound sleep. Blinking his eyes open, he lay in bed and listened. A handful of seconds passed in comfortable silence, but then he heard it again. He sat up, briefly checking that Ginny had not been disturbed, then tossed the blankets aside and left the bed.

Number twelve, Grimmauld Place, had undergone many changes over the years. Small tweaks here and there in which Kreacher had delighted in assisting. The house was no longer so dark and gloomy, its numerous exposed wood fixtures polished and gleaming with a coat of finish to give it a more modern, lived-in feeling. But the most noticeable change was in the library.

Ginny had wanted to put in large French doors, far to the back of the room, and of course Harry had indulged her. He opened them now, stepping out into a secret enchanted garden which his wife happily tended to every morning. Many of the plants here were extremely rare, gifts from their friend Neville Longbottom, all of them mysterious and beautiful. Some nocturnal blooms gave a soft, gentle glow, illuminating the garden.

But there was another light in the garden, high over his head, and Harry tilted his head back to stare up at the night sky. In a backdrop of the stars, growing softly brighter as it drew steadily nearer, floated a ball of fiery smoke. And then returned the sound that had first woken Harry… a softly powerful trilling melody that sung of life and renewal.

Harry caught a hand to the locket he was never without, but of course the music had not come from there. As though in answer to his wonder, the illuminated ball of smoke burst apart in a soundless explosion of fire and warmth. Blinking quietly to adjust his eyes, Harry felt them burn with sudden tears as he stared at the miracle before him. Reaching an unsteady hand forth, he carefully stroked his fingers over feathers of scarlet and gold and looked into sharp black eyes.

If ever Harry Potter had doubted, if ever he had felt even the tiniest sliver of fear of being forgotten, it was now banished from his heart forever. For he knew now with concrete, unshakable certainty that the promises of long ago would never rest until given their chance.

"Fawkes…"

14) Rosalie Cullen makes a cameo appearance! Well, after all, _someone_ had to play the role of Draco's "significant other."

**THE END**

**Author's Note:** Yes, I stole a bit from the last book's epilogue for my own. No, I do not claim it as original or profit from my thievery. I simply tweaked it to my own personal preference. *shrug*

**Last Word:** Two years! *confetti!* There's something to be said for persistence, after all! Or just a bull-headed stubborn refusal to quit. Oh, well. At the very least, someone will enjoy the fruits of my labor… Review, review, feed me those digital cookies, I'm starving for it after this one!


End file.
